


Stories from East Portlemouth Prep - Year Two

by aforgetfulgirl, hangonsilvergirl



Series: The Order of Weed [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Activism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, MWPP Era, Marauders, Multi, Peeping, Swearing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teen Pregnancy, Underage Drinking, Vandalism, no magic, smoking weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1914285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aforgetfulgirl/pseuds/aforgetfulgirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangonsilvergirl/pseuds/hangonsilvergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A magic-less AU featuring the Marauders as prep school students in the modern day, involved in an underground activist organization that fights against the megalomaniac Tom Riddle, a fashion designer with questionable business practices.</p><p>If it sounds ridiculous, it's because it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs (Sept-Dec 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Remus waxes, Peter shrinks, Sirius sees a nice bottom, and James gets decorated for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: This story was originally posted on a Livejournal between 2005 & 2008\. I am posting it here mostly so that it doesn't get eaten. I am copying it word for word, no edits. It is not particularly accurate for Briticisms and etc., and is nonsensical in some cases, but we loved it to pieces. Please don't take it seriously, it's honestly a gaff that got out of hand. For three years. :D

**September 1, 2003 - Moony**

"Want some, Remus?" slurred James.

"No. Alcohol is disgusting," Remus answered. "Besides, I don't drink."

"We're celebrating starting school again! How can you pout about that, you love school," James reasoned drunkenly.

"We have _class_ tomorrow," Remus reminded him.

"So what?" Sirius added, equally tottery. "Drinking is but a merry way to..." he paused uncertainly, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, it's just merry then." He finished, as though that settled the matter and tossed a Guinness in Remus' lap.

"Now," he added thoughtfully, "is the perfect time to start. There's a lovely moon out, a charming breeze on the air, and nothing better to do."

Remus sighed and moved to sit on his own bed next to Sirius, who had sprawled out there quite comfortably after he and James let themselves in. "Fine," he said, opening the bottle. "Where's Peter?"

James shrugged. "Don't know. Buggered off somewhere. He's your boyfriend, you should know."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You and Sirius share a room too, James. Am I to assume you two are boyfriends?"

"Most certainly not!" Sirius replied indignantly, flopping backward onto the bed. "James is far to scrawny. And he hasn't enough tit. You're supposed to drink the beer Rem, not stare at it. Staring will not transfer the drink to your bloodstream."

"Excuse me, I have a lovely figure. Thanks," James said, getting up off the floor to jump on Sirius. "You love me. You know it. You can tell him, he'll understand," James laughed, placing a bunch of slopping kisses on Sirius' face.

Remus rolled his eyes and took a small sip. "Disgusting," he said cheerfully. He did feel quite happy to be back at school with his friends. It had been a long, lonely, busy summer working with his parents so they could afford to send him back this year.

"Small sips have no effect!" Sirius exclaimed again, a little louder this time, and pushed James off of him, wiping the drool from his face. "And you are a horrid kisser. It is no wonder Lily Evans won't talk to you. Fish lips."

"Oh the pain," James wailed, setting himself back on the floor and taking a deep drink.

Sirius sat up again and cocked his head on the side, surveying Remus' bitty sips. "Once you get the first one down they all go down easy. So _c'mon_! Drink faster! James and I wish to take advantage of your intoxicated state. In very manly ways, and everything."

Remus sighed loudly, tipping the bottle up and swallowing the foul liquid as fast as possible. He paused to take a breath and then tipped the bottle right back up again, not setting it down until it was empty.

"There, happy?" he asked Sirius, wiping his mouth. "I drank it. All of it."

"I am no fish lips," James said in Sirius' direction.

"Are too," Sirius replied. "Slobbery aquatic seaweed-y kissing. Disgusting." He took another draught of his own beer and handed Remus another bottle. "I'd be happier if you did it again," he said with a grin.

"It tasted like old socks," Remus protested. But Sirius was grinning at him in that encouraging sort of way that made Remus feel like one of the boys, only not. He sighed. "You're completely annoying," he said, opening it and downing it as fast as possible. This time it took him two pauses for breathing. He pushed the two empty bottles at Sirius. "My stomach hurts now."

"Don't be a girl, Remus. If you are, I shall have to practice my kissing on _you_ so I am not fish lips for Lily," James said loudly, his voice slurred. "When she finally decides she likes me, that is. Because she does. She will."

"Yes. No girl-isms necessary." Sirius said, and laughed oddly, then drained the rest of his drink down his throat. "James kissing you is more disgusting than James' actual kisses. Which are disgusting. And fishy. Drink more."

Remus made a noise in the back of his throat. "Do you have anything that isn't beer?"

"Erm, whisky maybe. Is there whisky Fishy-Lips?" Sirius glanced at James as he had been planning to stuff his pockets.

James made a rather unintelligible noise and flopped onto his back. "Yes. Front pocket," he said, digging for it. "Aha!" he said as he managed to get it out. Remus ducked as James chucked it and hoped to God Sirius would catch it.

Sirius lifted an arm and managed to catch the flask with one hand. He giggled and passed it to Remus. "Try that then," he said, and grinned.

Remus accepted it gingerly, opening it and sniffing. "Good Lord, that smells like rubbing alcohol," he said, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

Sirius shrugged. "Which is just as good or better than old socks. Eh?" He continued to grin and watched Remus expectantly.

James let out one loud guffaw. "Go on, try it!" he said enthusiastically.

Remus screwed his eyes shut and took a swig. It burned all the way down and instantly made his ears feel hot. He pulled a face at the aftertaste but nonetheless wheezed, "Not bad. I don't think I should drink much, though."

"Girl! Kissing! Me! You!" James reminded him loudly.

"Exactly!" Sirius agreed, equally as loud. "Fish kisses or rubbing alcohol!?"

"If I have much more, it won't matter. My lips feel rather tingly as it is. I'll probably go numb soon," he said honestly, taking another swig. "You are a bad influence, Sirius. This is peer pressure, you know."

James exclaimed something then that sounded like 'pish!' but very well could have been 'fish!' or 'kiss!' or any number of things. His words were all sounding slurred and similar anyway.

"I am and it is," Sirius agreed. "But we are your _mates_ ," he emphasized, and patted Remus on the shoulder. "And you need to have fun, you know. Or you'll die with books and cats. And fish kisses."

Remus frowned. "I don't like cats. Or fish, really. Fish are pointless pets," he rambled. Sirius, however, was still watching him so he took another drink of whiskey, this time longer and deeper and all the more harder to keep down.

"There is no such thing as a pointless pet. If there was, I'd have gotten rid of Sirius ages ago. Wouldn't I, poppet?" James cooed.

Sirius purred and fell back on the bed again. "I'm jus' too lovely s'all. Drink up Remmie."

Remus took one more drink (two gulps this time) and put the cap back on, moving to set it on his night stand but missing it entirely and dropping it near James' head. "Oh dear," Remus said with concern. "I think I have had enough. I did drink it all very quickly. And you know, I've never been drunk before. Oh bother."

"Augh! NEARLY TOOK OUT MY EYE, YOU BASTARD!"

Sirius burst into a fit of giggles, mumbling incoherently about James not needing eyes so long as he could swim.

"He's just being dramatic," Remus said, flopping back next to Sirius. "It didn't even hit him."

"Almost did!" James protested.

"Look. I can see out the window from here," Remus said, ignoring James and twisting to look out into the night. "I can see the moon."

"The moon, the mooooooooon," Sirius sang tunelessly. "Pretty moon. Didn't a cow jump over it or something?"

"Yes, in a song. Poem. Not a very good one," Remus said matter-of-factly. "There are plenty of good poems about moonlight and moons and moony nights and all that. Like 'The Highwayman' by Alfred Noyes. That's a good poem with moonlight in the first stanza. Do you know how it goes? I do. Want to hear it?"

Remus cleared his throat without waiting for an answer. "The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, the moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, the road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, and the highwayman came riding—Riding—riding— the highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door."

"Why was the highwayman-type riding, riding? And moors aren't really purple. They're just kind of boggish and gray." Sirius blinked and furrowed his brow. "Hold on a second. James, did Remus just wax off moon poetry?"

James snorted. "Not just waxing, my friend. _Reciting_. You just recited moon poetry, Remus! You are mooning for the moon. Why, you're positively moony, aren't you? Hah!" James laughed.

Sirius giggled again. "Haha, moooooooony. Remus is moooooooooony." He turned his head to the side where he was lying and looked at Remus' face. "Remus loves the moon. I bet even it kisses better than James, and it's just like... rocks and the like."

"It's classic poetry. I was quoting it. I'm not moony," he protested because he had a feeling they'd be disappointed if he didn't protest.

"Moony. You are moony, moony, moony. In fact, we shall call you that now. Moony," James laughed.

"I'll quote poetry at you every time you do. You won't like that."

"We're tough and manly," Sirius said, flexing his muscles while lying down. "We are impenetrable to waxing. Of poetry I mean. Actual waxing would probably hurt quite a lot." He laughed and grinned. "Moony."

Remus sighed and dredged from his memory another poem with the word 'moon' in it. "'The Moon' by Emily Dickinson. The moon was but a chin of gold a night or two ago, and now she turns her perfect face upon the world below. Her forehead is of amplest blond; her cheek like beryl stone; her eye unto the summer dew the likest I have known."

Sirius looked at Remus disbelievingly. "Moony, mate, how on earth do you memorize this bollocks?"

Remus shrugged, his brain buzzing too much to be embarrassed. "I read a lot. Besides, that's Emily Dickinson. Everyone knows her."

James raised a wobbly hand into the air from the floor. "I don't!"

"Me either. Well maybe. Is she the bird who went bats?" Sirius scratched his head.

"Well," Remus said, thinking about it. "I suppose you could say that."

"So are you telling us you know enough moon poetry to pop one out every time we call you Moony, Moony?" James snorted.

Remus smiled. "From Percy Bysshe Shelley's 'The Cloud'. I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, and the Moon's with a girdle of pearl; the volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim when the whirlwinds my banner unfurl."

Sirius took a deep breath. "MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY," another breath, "MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY." He continued like that until James joined in and then increased the volume.

Remus sighed. "Fine. Moony it is. I don't know that many moon poems," he said, giving in.

James pumped his fist in the air and hooted, "Yes!"

"Victorious again! Sirius Black and James Potter, victorious victors!" Sirius laughed and looked at Remus. "Moony!" He exclaimed triumphantly.

Remus smiled down at Sirius.

"Moony," he agreed.

***

**December 14, 2003 - Wormtail**

Sirius glanced around the room with irritation and sighed for the millionth time, procuring an eye-roll from Remus and a slap upside the head from James. "Ow!" He said indignantly, rubbing his skull. "What was that for?"

They were sitting at a table in the library, the four of them, and Sirius was numbed to tears by the whole affair. So much more amusing things could be enjoyed on a December's day! Like snow forts! Or death! Anything but the library!

James glowered. "Because this is excruciating enough without you making it worse. Come on, Remus, can't we go outside? Just for a little while?"

Remus sighed. "I might hit you soon if you lot don't stop asking. This is important and none of you are helping."

"I am!" Peter squeaked from behind a tall stack of mostly unrelated books.

"You're a suck up, Peter," James said, reaching over to flick Peter on the ear. "Okay. I vote we take a break. Outside. Anything is better than this."

"Remind me what we're helping with again?" Sirius questioned distractedly, glancing longingly out of the nearby window. "Because I'm with James. Outside. Roof. Room. The tool shed. Everything and it's mum has more appeal than this place."

"Or," James said in the tone of voice that meant trouble. "Or. Or we could go out by the lake. I bet a nice, refreshing dip in the lake would wake us all up nicely."

"Isn't it a bit... well, cold? For swimming I mean." Peter said cautiously, as he had a habit of saying quite the wrong thing when it came to James and Sirius especially. "It being December and all." He added, mumbling.

"Man or mouse Pete?" Sirius asked, amused. "A polar dip would certainly brighten up this dreary party. Are you in Remus?"

"No. Don't be stupid. I'm researching the history of the school for the essay due next week and it's important and jumping in the lake is absolutely ridiculous. Now if you don't mind..." Remus said, suddenly getting quite nervous. He looked up to see Sirius staring at him. "No. No is final. Definitely, definitely no."

" _You_ already know the history of the school, twat. The more you study the stupider you'll become. But hopping into the lake is just a manly thing to do. Either come willingly or James and I'll strip you naked and toss you in." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and leaned the chair back on two legs.

"I'll do it then," Peter said reluctantly. Rather walk into the lake on his own accord than have James and Sirius throw him in. They'd do it to. And laugh about it.

James nodded at Remus and smirked, glad that Sirius had latched onto the idea. He'd never convince Remus on his own. "Come on Remus. Don't be the only girl."

Remus frowned. One of many things Remus Lupin hated was nudity. Not all nudity. In a perverse sort of way, he admired the way James and Sirius could be naked together as though it was not only natural, but actually far superior to being clothed. It was how they did many things, as though they were superior. Remus Lupin didn't have that, he couldn't do that.

"I am not a girl. And I said I don't want to."

"Real men do it naked," Sirius replied firmly. "You therefore, must be hiding your breasts. Do you play with them before you go to sleep Remusina?"

Peter giggled.

Remus slunk down in his chair. "No. I am merely being logical. What will jumping in the lake accomplish?"

James snorted. "Nothing. It's called 'fun', mate. It doesn't teach you anything unless you botch it up, it doesn't spout out facts and there aren't any quizzes on it. Just come and be stupid for once, you'll find it's quite freeing."

Remus pouted petulantly. "I have no desire to jump naked in the lake in _December_. You three go if you must."

"Lake, Remus," Sirius threatened. "Fun. Boy. Jump. _Naked_ , of all things. There is no logic, book boy!" He was on the brink of childish anger, a tantrum that took place, out of habit if he didn't get his way.

Remus sighed and pinched his nose, snapping his book shut and getting to his feet. "Fine!" he agreed loudly, trying to think of something suitably irritated to say but losing the words to Sirius' facial expression. "Right. Shall we go then?" he asked politely.

Sirius beamed with bemused happiness. As was usual on such occasions, he had already developed a most amusing plan, that of which he conveyed to James with wink and several head nods when Remus and Peter had made toward the door. James, of course, understood. He always did.

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts," Sirius sang, skipping ahead of everyone and out the door happily.

As Sirius skipped ahead, James didn't bother masking the wide grin on his face. He looped an arm around Peter and Remus' necks and chuckled.

"Ready to get wet, are we? This is going to be such fun!" James said loudly.

Remus and Peter exchanged a worried look. They knew all too well what James and Sirius found 'fun'. It rarely turned out well for anyone involved. Nonetheless, neither suspected any foul play. Peter even began humming along with Sirius' song. It was chilly outside and there was a thin layer of snow on the ground in some of the less traveled spots on the grounds. The lake sparkled in the bright winter sunshine and Remus wondered, as usual, how exactly he let himself get talked into these situations.

"This is stupid," he muttered as they stopped at the dock.

"Indeed it is," Sirius replied, and began taking of his clothes, still singing about coconuts, the occasional 'diddly diddly' heard through the fabric of his quickly depreciating supply of clothing.

Once they were all buck-naked and standing awkwardly on the small dock, Sirius grinned broadly. "Ready?" He asked.

Remus fidgeted nervously, covering himself as best he could with his hands. "No. No, I am not."

Peter seemed to be bouncing. He just wanted to get it over with. "Okay. If you are, I am."

James laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at Sirius over Peter's head, smiling widely.

Sirius poised himself in a jumping position. "On the count of three," he said, a hint of amusement evident in his voice. "One, two, three!"

Remus looked over, just before jumping, and spotted Sirius, standing casually with his weight on one hip and completely unconcerned with his state of undress. It was obvious he wasn't going to jump. Remus reeled back and grabbed Sirius' arm for balance.

"I'm not jumping if you aren't," he hissed just before there was a great splash. Peter had jumped, and he was the only one.

James exploded into loud laughter, doubling over and wheezing his amusement down at a flailing, shrieking Peter. "Oh wicked," he gasped, wiping tears of laughter from his face. "Absolutely brill, Pete. You sound like a girl." And then Pete stood up. There was fresh laughter. "AND YOU LOOK LIKE ONE TOO!" James howled.

Sirius was also bent at the waist, grasping his ribs and silently shaking. "F-fuck mate," he managed, tears running down his face, oblivious to the obvious disapproval in Remus' eyes, "it's like... it's like, a rat's tail or something. Oh lord."

Peter eyed the ground and attempted to cover himself, embarrassed. "Good one guys," he said glumly, teeth chattering, and began replacing his clothes.

Remus wasn't laughing. He wasn't smiling. That shaking was from the cold, not holding everything back. He shot a glare at Sirius and James. "Oh Pete. You can, ah, you can wear my cardigan if you're that cold. I mean, if you're cold," Remus said hurriedly, snorting once but trying desperately to pass it off as a cough. Someone had to be mature. It certainly wasn't going to be James.

"Rat's tail! Ha ha! No, no, more like a _worm_!" James said through laughter as he got up and went to punch Pete on the shoulder. "Oh worm tail," he said and then laughed so hysterically it was impossible to discern any words save the odd, "worm tail... ha ha!"

"S-shut up, James," Peter muttered. "The w-water is _really cold_ , all right? You d-d-don't know, you d-didn't go in."

"Haha, Pete, mate, c'mon. We're only joking you know. It's just funny right? You'd laugh if it was one of us, eh? Heh, Wormtail. I hereby dub thee 'Wormtail!'" Sirius grinned jovially, trying to convey that it was indeed a joke, and that Pete (for the sake of his own sanity) should laugh about it as well.

Peter shivered into his clothing and accepted Remus' offered cardigan as they all began to get dressed. "Ha! Ha, ha, ha!" Peter said loudly. He was trying to find it funny. He was. Mostly, right now, he was just cold. "I think that you should be happy I'm not laughing. If I started laughing, it would mean the cold had numbed most of my brain and I was dying." He seemed concerned by his own words. "I'm not dying, right? Oh God, what if, what if I freeze to death?"

Remus sighed. "Let's just go up and sit by the fire. You'll be all right."

James snickered. "Yeah, Wormtail, you'll be fine."

Sirius nodded his agreement and began replacing his own clothes. _Wormtail. Heh. Great fun_ , he thought happily.

Peter shot a hopeful look at his three friends. "But you aren't actually going to call me Wormtail, are you? I mean, I'm the manliest of the three of you, jumping in the lake..."

"I dunno about those two," Sirius replied, "but I'm calling you Wormtail. It is much too funny to forget, I believe."

James nodded his agreement. "Wormtail it is, mate. Sorry. Well, actually, I'm really not."

Remus shrugged apologetically as Peter turned to him. "It's not as bad as it could be, really."

Peter whimpered. "Wormtail."

***

**September 9, 2003 - Padfoot**

Sirius had a plan. It was more or less a dare on James' part, but it had slowly developed into a plan over the course of the day. He grinned as he tiptoed into the hallway where the majority of the second year females slept.

The coast, so far, was clear. Most doors were closed, but one he could see was jarred open enough to merit him a peak inside. Without a sound he ambled across the hallway crouched down and peered around the doorframe.

"Well I don't know. Lily is quite daft to not be getting on with James when he's obviously mad about her." Hestia Jones, a tall sporty girl, tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder.

"I suppose," Emmeline Vance replied, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

Both girls were in their underwear.

Sirius repressed a grin.

"How about you then?" Hestia asked Emmeline as she dug threw a nearby drawer, her backside facing the door.

 _She has quite an arse_ , Sirius thought to himself, and felt a familiar tingling in his pants region.

"What about me?" Emmeline quipped, her hands on her hips.

 _Mmmmm..._ Sirius continued to grin. _Pink_.

"Do you like anybody?" Hestia turned around again, a t-shirt in hand, and began adjusting her breasts in her bra.

Sirius' pants were suddenly uncomfortably tight.

"Not really," Emmeline replied, shrugging. "I'm not really interested in that right now."

"Right," Hestia retorted, pulling her t-shirt over her head. "I bet you'll even tell me you aren't attracted to Sirius."

Sirius' attention perked up.

"Well we're not all as madly in love with him as you are," Emmeline replied, rolling her eyes, and pulled a skirt out of the closet. "He's good-looking I suppose, but I don't imagine he's boyfriend material."

"I suppose not," Hestia replied sadly, back facing the door again, rustling through a pile of denim on the bed. "But he's hot as well. I think he'd be a worthwhile shag-buddy. Do you think he's big in the pants?"

Sirius' pants were itching to let her know.

"Hestia!" Emmeline exclaimed, buttoning up the front of her skirt.

"Having fun?" A voice of mocking and amusement came from behind Sirius. He turned his head so see Lily Evans smirking, with her hands on her hips.

"Only a little," he replied with his best 'innocent' grin.

"Em! Hestia!" Lily called, her grin widening. "Come see what I've found!"

The two girls came through the door, looking curious, and both jumped when they spotted Sirius. Emmeline still didn't have a shirt on. She ran back into the room.

Hestia, on the other hand, laughed.

"Did you hear everything we were saying then?" She asked, glancing downward at the strain in his trousers as he stood.

"Some of it. I was distracted." He admitted, and winked.

Hestia smirked, but before she could say anything else, Lily had grabbed Sirius by the arm and was pulling him toward the stairwell. "Good-day Mr. Black," she said with mock sweetness, and pushed him through the door.

Three floors up and two halls over in the room belonging to Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, James Potter sighed and looked up at Remus.

"Why are you reading when I'm bored? Where did Sirius disappear to anyway? Remus. Seriously. You're halfway done the whole novel and we only need to have chapter three read for tomorrow. Put it down. Entertain me. Remus? Peter, he's ignoring me," James whined.

"Well, I'll entertain you if you'd like. Do you want to play Go Fish?" Peter offered helpfully.

"I hate my life," James groused, just as an out of breath Sirius burst through the door. "Saviour!"

"Naked! Well, partially naked!" Sirius exclaimed with excitement and without making much sense.

James started blankly for a moment before realization dawned. "You must have... no! You did? What happened? Were... who... not Lily, right? I'll kill you if it was," James said, and all of this appeared to make sense to Sirius.

Remus Lupin looked up from his book to watch Sirius answer. Remus was not James, he didn't know what was going on. Nonetheless, he had a suspicion it would require him to be admonishing. So he watched and waited.

"No Go Fish then?" Peter asked, sounding disappointed.

"Emmeline Vance! Hestia Jones! Changing! Talking about my bits!" Sirius grinned.

"No! Well, yeah. Your bits? Which one?" James asked, excited.

Remus looked shocked for a moment and then thought he'd better clarify. "You know this how?"

"Hestia, wondered, you know, how big. And things. They think I'm ravishing. Oh and that Lily is daft for not wanting to shag you senseless. In more or less words." The blood had returned to Sirius' brain.

"I know," he said finally, turning his attention to Remus, "because I am the king of the spies! Moo ha ha!"

"Hey, hey Sirius, hey, do you think they'll convince her? Convince Lily for me? Huh?" James asked. "Do you? Will they?"

Remus lifted the reading glasses he didn't really need anyway and rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "You spied on girls changing?" he asked, his voice deadpan as he moved his hand to look up at Sirius, frown lines at the corner of his mouth already.

Sirius grinned proudly. "Yep! And I would still be there if Lily hadn't caught me. And James, mate, ask them, not me."

"You really... you really have no idea, not even an inkling, of how inappropriate that is?" Remus asked him. "How against the rules? How against the _law_? You could get expelled for that. Arrested. Fined. It's called being a Peeping Tom, Sirius."

James looked at Remus, aghast. "It's called being _brilliant_ and softer on his feet than I could ever be!" James turned back to Sirius. "Hey, do you think you could teach me? Or help me make pads? To put on my feet? Well, it wouldn't be much help. I'm a bit clumsy. You. You have natural pads. Remus, Sirius has natural footpads. It is a gift."

Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus. "Hestia didn't seem to put off with it, she thought it quite cute I daresay. And even Lily found it amusing, and she's three shakes short of being a prude."

James bristled. "Lily is not a prude..." he started defensively.

"She pushed you in a lake mate, remember? Because you kissed her cheek."

"I shouldn't have, though. I didn't _ask_. And anyway, we were eleven. Look. That's not the point. The point is that you have immaculately padded feet and this is probably the most amazing thing you've ever done."

"I beg to differ," Remus protested. "It is immoral. It is perverse. You _watched_ girls _change_ while they _didn't know you were there_. Please. Please tell me you at least see where I'm coming from."

"I think it's pretty cool. I'd like to see girls change," Peter piped up, turning a spectacular shade of red.

"I guess," Sirius said with a shrug, not really caring. He was Sirius Black and he did what he wanted. He always had. He had wanted to push the boundries, push the rules, push the law, push everything; just to see if it would bend for him.

It always did.

Remus sighed. "You're incorrigible," he said, but it carried a sort of fondness that Remus didn't mean it to.

"Remus, stop being such a downer! We have just discovered, or rather confirmed, that Sirius here is the ultimate pad-foot spy! Pad-foot!" he said vehemently.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Padfoot?" He questioned.

"One with padded feet, oh enviable pad-foot. In a tribute to your greatness, I shall now call you Padfoot for evermore," James said theatrically. Peter giggled.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "And I'll call you 'Prat'."

James laughed. "Oh come on. Padfoot has a nice sort of ring to it, doesn't it? Pads for short," he snickered, punching his friend in the arm. "Pads. Pads old boy."

Sirius sighed. He had lost. "Fine. Whatever gets your juices going fish lips." He had taken to criticizing James' kissing whenever he deemed it appropriate.

James laughed, looping an arm around Sirius' shoulders and batting his eyelashes. "So, if you're such an expert at sneaking about the girls' rooms, you must be an expert at other things. Fancy teaching me how to _kiss_ , Padfoot?"

***

**November 21, 2003 - Prongs**

James hated mornings. He hated getting out of bed. Being in bed was so warm and relaxing, except when Sirius Black was involved, and he would love to just stay there all day. He knew, however, that he couldn't.

As consciousness slowly spread through him, he sighed at the inevitable and raised a hand to rub at his eyes. He yawned and tilted his head and... something felt off. James touched a hand to the odd pressure pulling at his forehead, still confused and sleepy. He was very surprised to find something foreign there. Something plastic. He tried to tug it free but quickly decided, after the sharp stab of pain at the pulling of skin, that he didn't want to do that. He got out of bed and stumbled to the mirror.

"What? What the hell?" He said. Then, shouting, "Antlers? ANTLERS, SIRIUS? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

Sirius was sitting on his bed, fully clothed, a smirk on his face. "Happy early Christmas," he said laughing. "I thought you might like to be festive, you know?"

"Ha, ha, bloody ha," James said dryly. "Very original, you are the king even if it's only November, all that. Now how do I get them _off_?"

Sirius shrugged. "It's adhesive, so," he laughed again. "You might be a deer for a while."

James turned away from the mirror to face Sirius. "What? What do you _mean_ a while?"

"Ah, well, unless you want to pull your hair out along with it, it takes a while to... lose its oomph so to speak. Good look for you though." Sirius added, and stood, determined to inch toward the door. It was quite possible that he was a walking dead man.

Antlers! Ah, it was worth it.

James was not vain, he was not a vain person. Not wanting to walk around for days with _antlers_ was not being vain. It was being sensible. Besides, if he didn't react, best-mate pranking would begin to lose it's novelty, and that would be a travesty. It was his duty to do something. So, he took a deep breath, screamed, and dove at Sirius.

"Fucking prat," James said, as he swung at him and they bounced off the corner of the bed and into the door, slamming it open hard against the back wall.

"Argh!" Sirius made several disgusting sounds in the back of his throat as he tried to prise James off of him. "Gerroff!"

"No!" James shouted back as they struggled on the floor. Sirius got the upper hand and shifted on top of him.

"Oh honestly," came an exasperated voice from the doorway. Remus entered the room and wrapped his arms around Sirius, tugging him backwards and away from James before stepping around him to stand between the two boys. Remus knew he was stronger than he looked, even if he wasn't muscular by any definition. "Are you two quite finished?" he asked, a hand lingering on Sirius' chest. "And James, what on earth is on your head?"

At this, James made an enraged sort of noise and clenched his hands into fists.

"I decorated him for Christmas," Sirius replied, panting slightly.

"You decorated..." Remus started, but thought better of it. "Well. Why bother fighting about it? Just take them off."

James whimpered. "He stuck them on with adhesive. It hurts."

Sirius grinned proudly. "Stealth. That's my motto. You didn't even snort."

"Unfair advantage!" James wailed. "Padfoot!"

Remus snorted. He didn't _mean_ to, but, well, James did have antlers. Soon he was chuckling, and then all out laughing. James did not look impressed, but all Remus could say was, "Antlers!"

This was the moment when Sirius knew he had won. If Remus was laughing, then it actually was funny, particularly if it didn't result in a serious reprimand. Sirius had his doubts that Professor McGonagall would be so understanding.

But she'd probably laugh once they'd left her office.

"Lovely great prongs sticking out of his head," Sirius grinned. "Come on Jamie, you must admit it's funny."

"No, no I mustn't," James said, still glowering, but then his face broke into a reluctant smile. "However, I have decided to forgive you and will hold my head high even with these great ruddy bits of plastic sticking out of my forehead."

"I don't know. I think they sort of suit you," Remus said. "Prongs."

"Because I am the biggest buck in the school," James said firmly. "That's why."

Sirius laughed loudly. "Biggest buck in the school? Oh lord, delusional. Evans is going to love this. Prongs. I like that."

"You're right," James said grandly. "Evans will love it. She'll pretend she hates it, of course, but she'll love it."

"It's antlers Jamie darling. I don't think she'll have to pretend much. Just don't try to, you know, claim her as your territory or something. That might freak her out a bit." Sirius grinned. The sad part was that James probably would do it, and make an ass of himself.

"It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Remus commented. "Prongs."

"Prongs is perfect. Because James is slow. Like a deer. Like Bambi's dad!" Sirius exclaimed suddenly. "James, if you ever have a kid you better call him Bambi."

"Dearest Pads, if I ever have a kid, I will specifically _not_ name him Bambi just because of you. Not that that name was high on the list anyway," James said jovially. "And I am not slow. I am wise. I am all knowing. I am powerful. I'm a stag, baby, not a deer."

"I don't know any other person in the whole world who could turn having great plastic antlers glued to his face in the night into a symbol of superiority," Remus muttered. "Let alone not knowing them. They don't exist. Just you, James. Your ego is officially the largest in all the world."

James grinned and ruffled Remus' hair. "Thanks, Moony."

"Wise? Bollocks. Otherwise there would not be antlers on your head. I'm the wise one," Sirius said with a huff. "I will call you Prongs, and just so you know, every time I say it I'll be secretly calling you an idiot. Prongs."

"And I will remain blissfully unaware of your dastardly secret. Prongs it is."


	2. Sexual Education (September 3rd, 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Narcissa's interests lie with Christ and Lucius daydreams about bananas.

Lucius Malfoy was not a humble man. His nose rode in the air, higher in solidarity than the entire student body combined. He admitted defeat to no one, as he was superior in his intelligence, dress, mannerisms and anything else concerning.

Despite all this, a very agitated Lucius was left wondering where exactly he had gone wrong (which was happening more often of late, he hated to admit). He stroked his long blond hair tenderly in reflection, leather boots propped and crossed on his desk. "Sexual Education, of all things!" He exclaimed quietly, a trace of fear evident in his voice. The idea of teaching a group of second years such things was as about as appealing as a full body wax.

Lucius shuddered and eyed the clock ticking mockingly on the wall. Five minutes until he would have to proclaim abstinence as the moral choice of God, Jesus and etc. It was actually quite ironic considering.

Lucius smirked. He lost himself to memories before being jolted suddenly at the sound of the bell blaring to his right. He removed his boots from the desk, rubbed his ear (with it's now pounding eardrum) and sat upright, hands folded in front of him.

 _Well_ , he though maliciously, allowing his smirk to return, _if I get to suffer so do they, little bastards_.

As the students filed into class, one after the other, they could tell something was different. They'd all had Professor Malfoy last year, Religious Studies was a required class, and though they'd seen him wearing a smirk, and a wide variety of other superior and darkly amused expressions, everyone seemed to realize that something was up. They took their seats, waiting quietly or else whispering nervously.

Narcissa Black took a seat in the front row, the same one she'd sat in last year, and looked adoringly up at the teacher. Behind her, her cousin Sirius and his friend James Potter were snickering, but she paid them no notice as she waited for the class to begin.

Narcissa had decided on the very first time she'd ever seen Professor Malfoy, at the welcoming banquet last year, that they were meant to be together. She wasn't sure how to go about it yet, but she knew. It wasn't her problem that Sirius and his stupid friends thought she was just being ridiculous.

Lucius stood, clearing his throat nervously. He eyed the crowd of students, vaguely attempting a sinister glare that merely came across as constipation. Several students in the back giggled. Normally this was Lucius' time to shine, a moment to abuse power; but now, now his brilliant mind was much more preoccupied with the pressing matter of the task at hand.

"R-Right," he began shakily, fidgeting with his tie. Lucius never fidgeted. He cleared his throat again. "Well, as you may have noticed, you've all been signed for Religion for both terms. The reason being that this term, instead of the word of the Lord, you will be learning about," he swallowed, glancing with distaste at the randy beings in front of him who couldn't keep it in their trousers. "Fornication," he finished dully.

James let out a loud snort of laughter that caused some other students in the room to titter nervously. Narcissa turned a rosy pink and closed her eyes, biting her lip a little in an attempt to steal herself for what was sure to be one of the most uncomfortable classes of her life.

Sirius was smirking gleefully at the discomfort sprawled all over Malfoy's face. He was determined - if Malfoy couldn't do it himself, that is - to make this the most uncomfortable classroom experience of their lives. "You mean _sex_ , Professor?" He asked innocently.

Lucius glared at Sirius. The boy was a living pain in the arse and needed to be taught a lesson with a good hard paddle. Or a pellet gun. "Yes, Mr. Black, that is _exactly_ what I mean. Now, fornication is a matter of consummating marriage. It is a bond between a man and," he coughed, and his face turned red. "A woman."

Lucius glanced at the clock. 55 minutes were left to be endured.

"Can anyone tell me, the, ah, _other_ purpose of fornicating?" 'Ask questions!' Dumbledore had said, 'get them involved! Make it fun!' How on earth were you supposed to make sex fun? Other than. Well. No.

"To get off, Professor?" Sirius interjected.

James let out another shotgun of laughter. Narcissa whirled around in her seat and glared at her cousin before politely returning her attention to Professor Malfoy and raising her hand.

"Sir," she said, and then continued without waiting for him, a slightly suggestive lilt to her voice, "to express love, sir. And to procreate."

Lucius coughed awkwardly and tugged lightly at his collar. The room had suddenly become much warmer. "Er, right Miss Black. Very good. Detention Mr. Black."

Sirius saluted from his seat.

"Now. Does everyone understand how, ah, the process is... engaged?" It was at this stage that Dumbledore had recommended props. A banana and a glass.

The man was insane.

Narcissa's eyes went glassy as she imagined it, imagined what it would be like to engage in such a process with Professor Malfoy. With Lucius. Her blush returned and she shifted to cross her legs, trying very hard to look unaffected.

"Everyone knows how _the process is engaged_ , sir. It's primal instinct," James said, voice thick with laughter.

"Is it?" Sirius asked idly, surveying the dirt under his fingernails. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Can you explain it Professor?"

Lucius gritted his teeth, imagining all the ways in which Black and Dumbledore could be tortured to death.

"Certainly, Mr. Black," he said, forcing every word out of his system as though it were a disease. "In order for the action to take place the man must place his _penis_ ," Lucius nearly choked, and rather high-pitched added, "into his wife's _vagina_."

The class was a cross between shocked, amused and slightly disgusted. Sirius was in his element. "Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Well, what if you're not married sir? How do you do it then?"

"You don't." Lucius curved his fists tightly and issued every bit of willpower needed not to punch Black in the face.

"You're not married, Professor," James piped up. "Are you a virgin then? You haven't disobeyed the word of God, have you?"

Narcissa's daydream suddenly twisted and she saw Professor Malfoy with a bunch of nameless, faceless women. It made her sick. She narrowed her eyes an angled another glare in Sirius and James' directions.

Lucius was slightly taken aback. He almost automatically responded with an 'of course not you idiot', but caught himself just before the words slipped out. "Of course I am. I am a servant of the Lord and I follow his word."

Sirius couldn't help himself. "Bollocks," he tested.

James just continued calmly. "I'm not sure I want to learn about sex from a virgin. Isn't there anyone more... qualified around to teach us?" he asked, pasting on a face of innocence.

Narcissa let out a little gasp and waited to see how Professor Malfoy would react to that. She would have said something to Sirius and James, but she rather liked seeing Lucius angry. He was so passionate and powerful. She watched him with half-lidded eyes, her face expectant and eager.

Lucius couldn't contain himself anymore. He had had quite enough of sexual education, stupid boys who compensated their dick size with obnoxiously large mouths, and Albus Dumbledore for sticking the image of a banana making love to a glass in his head. "Shut your mouth you idiot boy. You know as well as I do that the better part of this is codswallop. Half of you present here right now are likely shagging like ruddy rabbits. So kindly stop patronizing me and allow me to wade through this rubbish as quickly and painlessly as possible."

Sirius made a face. "So, you're not a virgin then? Does that mean God's word is codswallop as well?"

"Believe what you want. I don't have the want nor need to grace your abnormally large ears with an answer." Lucius threw Black a look of contempt and tossed his hair over his shoulder.

Narcissa smiled and leaned forward on her elbows, resting her chin on her palms and sticking one pinky finger into her mouth absently. "Please, sir. Some of us are actually interested, even if those two are utter idiots," she said, her voice beseeching.

Lucius blinked at the blond creature in front of him with surprise. Was she actually trying to seduce him? Not that she wasn't beautiful or doing rather interesting things with that finger, but she was 15. "I see," he said, glancing at the clock. They had managed to get through 45 minutes of class and he wasn't sure how. He turned back to Narcissa. "In the interest of Christ or in the interest of yourself, Miss Black?"

"In the interest of Christ, of course. I," she paused, raising her eyebrows, "live to serve, after all. I merely wish to be educated in every area possible. It's the duty of a young lady like myself to strive for higher education."

Lucius almost laughed out loud. "Indeed," he replied absently, eying her with interest.

After several minutes of deathly, awkward silence, the bell finally rang and Lucius' prayers, as well as those of his students were answered. "Thank Jesus," Sirius said, gathering up his books.

"Mate, what is _with_ your cousin?" James asked as the two of them hurriedly left the room.

Narcissa took her time putting her books back in her bag, hoping to have a moment alone with Professor Malfoy. There was little left for her to occupy herself with when finally the last students left in a laughing, relieved group. She turned to face her teacher.

"It wasn't a very productive lesson, was it?" she asked mildly. "I can't believe Sirius is my cousin. He's absolutely disgraceful and I absolutely _beg_ you not to associate me with him."

"No worries Miss Black," Lucius replied, studying her facial expressions, the contours of her face and, well, the contours of her body as well. "Some of you are here to learn, I'm sure."

Narcissa nearly shivered and wished it were his fingers tracing her instead of his eyes. "I am. I'm sure you have _lots_ you can teach me. Perhaps I could do some extra work? I really want to do well," she said, her voice breathy and hopeful.

Lucius' mind was finding itself in a very conflicting position. There was, on one side, his job, profession and reputation. On the other was this beautiful, swooning girl who would most likely jump off a cliff if he asked. 

"Drop by my office tomorrow after classes," he said finally, after a moments hesitation. Perhaps we can arrange something then."

Narcissa put a hand to her lips, nodding silently. She didn't, at the moment, trust herself to speak. She walked towards the door, pausing with one hand on the handle. "I'll see you next class, Professor," she whispered, tossing an alluring smile over her shoulder at him before dashing from the classroom, shutting the door behind her.

She ran straight to the washroom and closed herself in a stall, laughing breathlessly. She didn't care if she would be late to her next class, she only needed a moment to savour her success. She'd done it, she had a _meeting_.

Lucius gathered his books and papers, sliding them into his leather satchel. He paused, glancing around the room, eyes resting on the seat Narcissa had occupied.

"Interesting girl," he commented with a smirk, and headed into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.


	3. Don't Tell! (September 4th, 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Narcissa is persistent, Lucius is apprehensive, and Noah didn't part the red sea. Those poor, poor goats!

Sitting in his office, at his desk, Lucius frowned at the papers in front of him. It was often astounding, he found, the answers he received on tests from a group of students who were supposedly the top of the food chain when it came to intelligence. In truth, Lucius knew that the focus for institutions like East Portlemouth was far from academic in most cases. It was money, tradition and a last name that often made the final cut; grades and brains were smoothed over the top to make everything seem much more prestigious than it actually was.

Marking several more answers wrong on Roddy Pontner's test, Lucius rolled his eyes. _Yes, Pontner_ , he thought to himself. _Noah parted the red sea to save a herd of goats. That was certainly the way things happened_.

Sighing outwardly, Lucius dropped his pen onto the desk and pushed the quiz papers for his first years aside. Rubbing his temple and yearning for a little intelligence (at least), Lucius was suddenly startled by a light, nervous knock at his door. "Enter," he muttered, loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear. Was he expecting anyone that day?

Narcissa took a deep breath and smoothed her hair back one last time before she pushed the door open and stepped into the room. She shut it behind her and leaned back against it, staring at Lucius with wide eyes. She could sense his irritation and her hands itched to massage the tension out of his shoulders. 

"Hello, Professor," she greeted him, smiling through her slight apprehension. Blacks were supposed to be confident, and she was, in a way. Of course, she was also quite aware that if things didn't go how she wanted them to, she was in a position to be humiliated.

"Ah, Miss Black," Lucius replied, standing. He had completely forgotten about this. His head suddenly began racing as he tried to recall his mindset the previous day; what had he been thinking, really, inviting Narcissa Black to his office? It was entirely inappropriate, that is, if she had in mind what he _assumed_ she did. "Please, have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair on the other side of the desk, and once she had tentatively seated herself, he followed suit.

"Now," he started. "How might I help you today?"

Narcissa crossed her legs elegantly, sitting straight in the chair. She smiled delicately at him and began tracing one French manicured fingernail along the line of her collarbone. She didn't know much about seduction, really, but she knew she was pretty, and she knew her shirt was unbuttoned just enough that maybe he would look.

"We were going to talk about extra activities I might be able to do for you," she said brightly, the words coming out dainty and reminding Narcissa how young she was. Only the deliberate phrasing kept any real sense of innocence at bay. "You asked me to come after classes. I hope my timing isn't inconvenient?"

"Oh yes," Lucius replied, distracted by the seductive line that drew like an arrow from her neck to her cleavage. He startled. "I mean, no, your timing isn't inconvenient, Miss Black. I was referring to the 'extra activities' you mentioned. Did you have anything in mind?" He licked his lips hotly and tried, with difficulty, not to look where her skirt rested, high on her thigh.

"Anything you like," Narcissa answered quickly, breathlessly, and plaintively. Was it working? Was it _actually working_? "Anything at all."

"Well," Lucius said, wracking his brain for some sort of answer that wouldn't get him fired. "Would you like to start now? I've some papers here that you could file away for me. If you'd like."

Narcissa frowned a little, but quickly recovered and got to her feet, leaning her weight onto one hand, resting on his desk. Leaning forward, she feigned interest as she looked down at the papers on his desk. "Certainly. Where would you like them?"

Lucius gestured at the filing cabinet against the wall to his right, her left. "The third drawer, in the first year folder. Alphabetically, if you could."

"Of course I can," she said, holding his gaze for a moment before picking up the papers and beginning to shuffle through them as she walked towards the filing cabinet. Narcissa idly started to alphabetize them as she looked for someone with writing untidy enough to give her an excuse to get close to Lucius. Finally, she spotted one with a name that she couldn't quite make out.

"Sir, I'm not sure what this one says," she called, walking back to his desk. She placed the paper down in front of him and took a deep breath, leaning much closer than was necessary. _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , Narcissa thought, steeling herself for the worst even before she took the next step. Softly brushing her bare knee against his thigh, she stared at his lips as she added, "It's atrocious writing. Can you make out the name?"

Sensibly, Lucius thought, _I should move away from this compromising position_. He didn't move however, and spent a great moment trying not to swallow his foot and say something completely idiotic. He was a grown man, for Christ's sake! Why was he getting so worked up over a school girl? _A sexy, sexy schoolgirl_ , he added thoughtlessly, wandering eyes travelling back to the exposed curve of her breasts. Lucius could just make out the patterned lace on her bra.

He shook his head, and cleared his throat. He was blushing.

"Ah, let's see here." He studied the paper for a moment, trying to recognize the writing, barely able to keep his eyes focused on the paper in front of him. "Arnold Peasegood," he said finally. "Peasegood," he repeated.

Enough of Narcissa's life had been spent perfecting--or at least practicing--the art of manipulation that she knew when she was winning. Unfortunately, Narcissa was an only, spoiled child, and patience was not one of her many virtues. She tried her hardest to push away the part of her that wanted Lucius _now_ and tried to focus on the part that simply wanted him.

"Sir?" she asked, trying her best to sound worried. "Have I... done something wrong? You seem... well. I didn't mean to displease you."

"No, no," Lucius replied quickly, his voice a little strangled. "Finish up the paperwork," he added, perhaps a little more forcefully than he'd intended. "I might have a few other things you could help me with."

"If you're sure," Narcissa purred and smiled in a pleased sort of way as soon as her back was to him. Well, at least she knew she was getting to him. She just wasn't sure what else she could do to move things along. It was unladylike to make the first move, after all.

So, she set about finishing the paperwork, getting impatient and eventually stuck them all into the filing cabinet before she'd finished putting them in the right order. She would fix them later; right now all she could think about was the man behind her. She wondered if he was watching. She pulled one of the un-alphabetized papers back out again and dropped it to the floor, bending at the waist to pick it up.

There it was again, that squeaky, affected, boyish reaction to a woman's ass. It was so _curved_ and _perfect_ and Lucius wanted to touch it so badly that it physically hurt him and was threatening to rip his trousers. He could almost see under the skirt; it flapped slightly as she bent, and if he leaned his head just a little bit to the right he might be able to see what was underneath...

Lucius nearly fell out of his chair. Startling himself, he managed to get upright again, but not without the image of what was under Narcissa's kilt still burned into his vision. Nothing. Nothing at all.

Dear God. He wanted so, _SO_ badly to rob the cradle.

Judging from the slight noises behind him, Narcissa knew that he was watching. Putting the paper back into its rightful spot in the filing cabinet, she turned to face him. His cheeks were a little pink and Narcissa just wanted to jump him. Her blood was racing and her heart pounding and it was _actually working_. She walked towards him, sitting on the edge of his desk and smiling down at him.

"What can I help you with next?" she asked, leaning back on her arms. She knew she was being incredibly bold now, but she didn't want to wait anymore.

Lucius wanted to tell her what he _really_ wanted her to do, but she was _fifteen_ and it was just a little more than inappropriate. There were plenty of girls his own age to shag, that wouldn't compromise his job and his life. Plus, what if she was doing it on purpose because she secretly hated him and wanted to get him fired? What if... what if she wanted to take him to court for sexual assault?

Then again, Lucius added, surveying Narcissa, perhaps it was just general lust. General affection. _Mutual_ affection. Lucius was man enough to admit that he'd watched her in the hallways, or in classes. She curved. Her laugh was soothing. Her smile was welcoming. He decided then and there that he would test the waters. If things went sour, God knew he could talk his way out of anything.

"Narcissa," he started, in a low, husky voice.

"Yes?" she asked eagerly, sliding a bit further up the desk, ignoring as her skirt bunched up a little. She could feel something change in the air, and she couldn't help but shiver a little with anticipation.

She was intoxicatingly beautiful. "I... I think perhaps you should visit me more. From now on."

She had done it, she was sure of it, but she wanted to hear him say it. "What for, sir?" she asked, slowly inching her legs open, even if an action like that was even more unladylike than making the first move.

Lucius bit down hard on his bottom lip, struggling to word everything just so. To make it as ambiguous a statement as possible. "I'd like your help," he said, trying to keep his eyes on her face, not her crotch. "In a very specific area... I. I don't know if you'd be interested." _Although you certainly seem to be_.

"You know I am," Narcissa said, not quite keeping the desperate impatience out of her voice. Certainly he could tell she wanted him? If it wasn't obvious by now, she didn't know what else to do. She could understand him having some reservations, but after all she'd done... " _Please_ , sir. I'd love to help you. I think you're brilliant, Professor. You've no idea how much I admire you."

She seemed displeased. Lucius frowned. Surely she understood the context of the predicament she had placed him in? He cleared his throat. How did one phrase, politely, that one wanted their student to be their lover? Sexual slave? Mistress, even? "I would like you to be... to be my... to. To. To take care of me," he finally spit out, coherently. There was a pregnant pause, and Lucius took a deep breath. "You're driving my senses wild, Narcissa."

Letting out a relieved breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Narcissa nodded and reached for his hand, placing it high on her thigh. "Good," she whispered. "And I would be honoured."

Lucius licked his dry lips, a wry smile tugging at their corners. "Perhaps," he began suggestively, "you should start right now."

"I suppose," Narcissa said, easing herself somewhat tentatively off of the desk and onto his lap, "that it's a good thing I locked the door behind me."

She raised her hands to his face, unable to keep an expression of awe off of her own. After a year of pining, she was finally allowed to touch him. Her fingers danced over his beautiful cheekbones, his full lips, into his long hair, down his neck, over his chest. She slid off of his lap to her knees, undoing his belt with deft fingers as she settled herself on the floor between his legs. She began unbuttoning his trousers reverently, excited by his obvious arousal.

Lucius groaned. He watched her; eyes dancing as she mercifully began undoing his belt and trousers.

Finally freeing him from his trousers and pants, Narcissa stared for a moment before looking up to meet his eyes. Watching Lucius' face all the while, Narcissa began stroking the base of his cock with agile fingers and running her tongue around the head.

Lucius gasped, body tingling with pleasure. _How_ , on earth, did she _know_ how to do _things like that_?

Taking him into her mouth, Narcissa wrapped her tongue around him as best she could and sucked. She'd learned how to give blowjobs over the summer and hoped she didn't do anything wrong. Swallowing him back as far as she could, she pumped her hand up to meet her lips, tracing gentle fingers through his pubic hair and up beneath his shirt.

The only way Lucius could respond with ardent groans, moans and the occasional, "Oh!" She was breathtaking to watch; sweet and sensual; her tongue danced around him.

Already Cissa loved that she was the one doing this to him, loved everything about him. She loved the way he tasted, loved the noises he made, loved the expression on his face. She sucked harder, twisting her hand around him and tonguing the lip around his head. She moaned as she took him in again, still watching his face.

Lucius wasn't going to last much longer, he knew. The entire situation (that is, her in her schoolgirl uniform, knowing that she was knicker-less) mixed with her ministrations was driving him absolutely out of his mind.

"Oh God," he murmured softly. "Oh fucking God." A few more slight twists and jerks on Narcissa's part and Lucius was almost completely undone. "Narcissa," he called breathlessly. "I'm going to, I'm going to..."

At his words, Narcissa only quickened her pace. It wasn't long before he came into her mouth, the warm, salty liquid spilling across her tongue as she swallowed it, swallowed _him_.

Lucius was breathing ragged. He looked down at her, mouth agape, not really knowing what to say or do.

Leaning back a little, Narcissa released him and smiled, propping her face up on her hand, elbow balanced on his thigh. Her other hand drew small shapes on his thigh, shapes like hearts and 'L+N'.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," Narcissa breathed.

Lucius got up suddenly, as if shot or something. He looked like a startled deer, and began pacing around the room frantically. Absentmindedly he noticed that his trousers were slipping past his hips and he paused to pull them up and do them up. He left his belt hanging, however, and then resumed his pacing.

"Sir?" Narcissa asked as she got up and watched him pacing, shocked by his behaviour. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Don't call me sir," Lucius muttered in response. He turned to face her, unsure of where to go from here. What he'd done... it was. It was immoral. Illegal. Unethical. It was just _wrong_.

But it felt so _right_!

"Lucius, then," Narcissa said, challengingly. She wasn't going to let him talk himself out of it, not now, not once she'd had a taste. She squared her shoulders and walked around the desk, standing in front of him. "I won't tell anyone. I promise," she assured him, reaching for his hand again, but this time placing it on her chest, her gaze not straying from his face.

He shook his head, but at what he wasn't sure. Then he looked at her. Really _looked_ at her for what felt like the first time in his life. His first time really _seeing_ her.

Her face was red, her lips quirked, her jaw set. Her blond locks danced around her shoulders wildly, and Lucius... he wanted to run his fingers through them.

Without a word, sudden realization had struck, and Lucius rushed forward, pinning Narcissa against the desk aggressively. No words were needed. Wrong or right, this was it. This was what it was, what it would become, and he kissed her. He kissed her and he meant it like nothing else he had ever done.

The edge of his desk bit into her back, but Narcissa ignored it and wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his kiss, leaning into his mouth. She wondered if he could taste himself on her, wondered if her touch was burning him the way his was burning her.

Breaking away, Lucius gasped for breath, looking into her round, surprised, twinkling eyes. "God. God! Narcissa, I..."

"You what?" she prompted, pressing into him.

"This is wrong," he said suddenly. "Wrong. We both know it. But..."

"I don't _care_ ," Narcissa sighed, curling her hands into her hair and tilting her head to nibble his ear. "I want you, I always have. You obviously want me. Don't think about the rest. No one else has to know."

"You interrupted," Lucius said shortly, and, compelled, kissed the tip of her nose.

"What were you going to say, then?" she asked, smiling up at him. She knew she looked--and sounded--like a doting, lovesick fool, but she couldn't help it. She wanted him, and what Narcissa wanted, Narcissa always got.

"We just. Can't. Tell anyone." Lucius finished.

"Of course not," she breathed promptly, relieved. "Not a soul."


	4. Mad Radish (September 15, 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Gideon gets stuck with the groceries, Marlene channels her anger, and la cucaracha is and forever will be, really, really tacky.

"Get some more of those radishes, they look yummy," Fabian instructed, hovering over Marlene's shoulder.

Marlene snorted and elbowed him away. She was closer with Gideon than she was with Fabian, who was three years younger, but since the two boys spent an inordinate amount of time together, she often ended up hanging out with both. Like today, for example.

"They're really hard, they don't even look ripe yet," she said, but dropped a couple more into her basket nonetheless. After browsing for a couple more minutes in the organic produce store, Marlene McKinnon and the Prewett brothers made their way up to the till. She paid for the food and the three of them exited into the bright mid-morning sunshine. "So what now?" she asked.

"Home with the groceries?" Gideon suggested, peering into the bag as they walked and attempted (in vain, as Marlene smacked his hand) to grab an apple that was sitting on top. "What?" He asked with mock innocence. "You should be proud of me, eating my fruits."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "You're a vegetarian Gid, it's rather a rule."

"Oh, shush," Gideon responded, then smirked wryly.

"Let's take the long way down Main Street. You Know Who, that ghastly prick, is opening a store here today. We can smoke up on his property just to spite him," Fabian said, grinning a wide, vindictive grin.

Marlene laughed. "I'm up for it, if you're sharing. Gid?"

"If you give me that apple I'll share," Gideon said, and swiped it, taking out a big chunk. "Lovely!" he said thickly, and grinned broadly, bits of apple in his teeth.

"You are disgusting, brother," Fabian said, snatching away the apple and taking a bite. "Come on then," he said around his mouthful.

"You brats!" Marlene protested, pretending to be angry as the three of them jaywalked across the street and headed towards Main.

A rather large crowd had gathered outside the store titled, 'The Dark Mark'. A rather horrific sign baring a snake slithering out of a skull's mouth was the logo, and Gideon cringed.

"Dear lord," he said, taking another bite of the apple he had stolen back from his brother. "Bit creepy, that."

"Creepy? What do you mean _creepy_?" Fabian shrieked in a passable imitation of the insane, and very gay, fashion designer. "It is cutting edge! It is dangerous! It is _Vol de Mort Fashions_!" He rolled his eyes. "Gag me. I say we come back later and spray paint the sign with hearts and butterflies and paste up pictures of their factories on the windows."

"Hear, hear!" Marlene agreed.

A vaguely stoned looking kid with dreadlocks just in front of them turned around and pumped his fist in agreement. Fabian smiled winningly at him and the boy nodded, donning his own small smile before turning around again.

Fabian turned to face his brother. "What do you think, Gid? Up for it?"

Gideon laughed. "Yes, mate. Butterflies. And I want to do a unicorn flying over a rainbow as well, eh?"

"All right boys," Marlene said with a glance around. "Tree or lamp-post?"

"How about we go around the back of the building?" Fabian suggested, nodding at the little alley beside the shop. "It's just; there are a couple cops over there. I guess they might be expecting trouble. Maybe they knew we'd be here."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. It's all about you two. Honestly, Fabian."

Gideon shrugged and the three made their way behind the building. Gideon pulled out a baggy where a nice, tightly rolled joint sat, practically gleaming. He passed it to Fabian, stuck the bag back in his pocket, and waited patiently as Fabian lit the thing and began passing it around.

The joint made a few rounds and the three friends talked and laughed as they smoked it. Just after Fabian passed it back to Gideon to finish off, there was the sound of a rather gaudy, pretentious music car horn in addition the sound of a crowd exploding into uproar. Fabian looked around the corner and then leaned back, his eyes wide.

"He's here! The bastard is here!" he exclaimed.

"La cucaracha? That's a bit tacky, even for Riddle, isn't it?" Gideon commented, and moved to where Fabian stood, glancing around the corner. Sure enough, a shiny black, gas-guzzling hummer (of all bloody things) had approached the crowd, a pointed, manicured hand acknowledging them lazily through the window.

"Come on," Fabian said, ever the impulsive one, and took off at a run, literally jumping into the crowd. He wove his way through, sure that Gideon and Marlene were close behind him. "Riddle! Hey Riddle! How many kids died this week putting a rush order on all the ugly, overpriced, dead-animal clothes for _this_ store, huh!" he yelled, unsure whether or not his voice would carry over the noise of the crowd to Riddle's open window.

"Fabian!" Marlene shouted. Fabian turned to look at her. When she and Gideon had caught up with him, he turned back to see Riddle looking in his direction. He raised his hand high in the air, his middle finger extended.

Gideon and Marlene exchanged a look, then stuck their middle fingers up as well, laughing at Riddle as they did so. The members of the crowd, who had previously been booing the man, laughed as well. They all joined in, raising hands and voices in a very obnoxious catcall.

"Riddle me this, Tommy-boy," Gideon called, smiling broadly, "how many fingers will it take you to realize that you've got the combined fashion and common sense of peanut?"

"You're giving him too much credit," Marlene chirped. "Mr. Peanut wore a monocle. He was classy."

"SECURITY!" Riddle roared from the car, "POLICE! I'M BEING ASSAULTED!"

The crowd laughed as the officers began moving in toward Gideon, Fabian and Marlene, who had just thrown caution completely to the wind.

"Assault?" She questioned incredulously, and picked several rock hard radishes out of her grocery bag before letting it drop to the ground. "I'll show you assault."

Everything seemed to slow down as Marlene drew back her hand.

"Get down!" Fabian shouted to the boy in front of them, the same one from before, and he moved, tugging the person in front of him out of the way too.

Marlene, who'd played baseball with the oldest, toughest boys on their block all through their childhood — even when Fabian hadn't been allowed to — had a mean arm. She threw the radish, grunting loudly, and it hit Riddle's backseat window hard, shattering it. Only the dark plastic of the tinting kept the cracked glass together. The sound seemed to dim and everyone watched as the window lamely collapsed inward.

"Yeah!" Fabian shouted, grinning and punching the air, the crowd erupting with him.

"You lot! Don't move!" shouted a police officer.

"Shit! Run!" Fabian shouted and scooped up Marlene's grocery bag, shoving it into Gideon's arms and tugging his brother after him. The three took off, weaving through the crowd and laughing.

They were just about to turn out onto a side road with a short cut to Molly's, but two police officers emerged from the side of the building grasping Marlene by the wrists.

"Fuck you!" she said, wriggling, trying to shake them free. "Get off of me!" Gideon and Fabian moved back toward her quickly but were blocked by a third officer who seemed to appear from nowhere.

"You have the right to remain silent," the officer began, placing handcuffs onto Marlene's wrists; the crowd erupted into boos, but a distinct laugh was heard from the now busted hummer, and the same radish Marlene had thrown at it came flying back toward her, narrowly missing several officers, as well as Gideon.

"Bastard!" he screamed as the hummer roared and moved to drive away. Marlene was being led to the police car, still putting up a hell of a fight.

"Stop it!" he called to her. "They'll just tack on assaulting an officer, Marlene! We'll bail you out as soon as we can, all right?"

"Hey! Watch where you're putting your hands!" Fabian snapped at the youngest cop as Marlene tried hard to calm down. "This is a fucking _joke_. Like he doesn't have five more of those environmentally disastrous pieces of shit at home. Marlene, we'll come up to the station ASAP."

Marlene was finally ducked into the car, the door was shut, and she savagely began kicking the driver’s seat.

"She's just going to get herself in more shit, honestly," Gideon said with exasperation. To his amazement however, Marlene stopped as soon as the officer managed to seat himself in the car. "C'mon," he said to his brother, and turned back into the direction they were originally headed. "Let's go get the van. Have you made much this month? We're going to have to use it to bail her out."

Fabian shrugged helplessly as the car drove away, putting its sirens on for no apparent reason. "They just want to make an example of her. What? Oh. I made a bit. It might be enough. If not, well. We'll just have to ask Molly, won't we? And let's try not to let it get to _her_ parents. I doubt they'll be pleased about it."

"No kidding," Gideon replied, and the brothers turned and began running up the road, irritated, determined, and praying to God that Marlene didn't kick anything else.


	5. Girl Talk (November 8th, 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Hestia is ~~righfully~~ suspicious, Emmeline is dubious, and Sirius is better off _not_ knowing that he's being discussed.

Now Emmeline wasn't the sort to get high very often--even if a lot of the most significant artists there were believed mind-altering drugs could bring a person closer to true art--but Hestia had offered, and so she had. Now they were snacking on chips and trail mix and even some sugary gummy something-or-others and enjoying the feeling.

Popping a salty chip into her mouth and leaning forward, Emmeline grinned and asked, "I don't know _why_ you like Sirius so much. He's so... loud. And brash. Sometimes he's just scary. Ha, not that I'm scared of him or anything. But you know?"

Hestia shrugged. "It's hard to explain. He's just, like... _enigmatic_ you know? It's hard to explain." She paused, popping a pretzel into her mouth and frowning. "He's good in bed, at the least."

"Oh," Emmeline said, nodding and thinking about that. She was generally a rather quiet girl, but her and Hestia had lived together all last year and had had plenty of time to get to know each other. Now, they shared a room again this year and Emmeline didn't really see what the point of being shy would be when it was just her and Hestia. "Well, that's as good a reason as any, I guess."

"Have you shagged at all Emmeline?" Hestia asked.

"Me? No, no. Do I look like a girl who's been shagged?" Emmeline asked, smiling bashfully. "I expect I'll wait until marriage."

"Really?" Hestia questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "Why though? I mean, what if you marry a bloke, and he's _rubbish_ at it, or has a small cock, or his bollocks have this permanent wonky sort of smell that, once you smell it, you can never get away from it?"

Emmeline burst out laughing around her mouthful of snack food and sprayed little bits in Hestia's general direction. "Oh, sorry! I just... it's... that was... funny. I, um, I suppose I'll do other sorts of things before I get married. I'll see--and smell--his bits in advance. Just not, you know. Go all the way."

"Yes, but _why_? Where's the big leap from having it in your mouth to having it between your legs?"

"I don't know. It's not Christian, is it?" Emmeline said, and then exchanged her thoughtful expression for a smile and a giggle. "I just think it'd be nice to save sex for marriage, so you have _something_ to look forward to, at the very least."

"Well, you'd have _some_ other things to look forward to. Like babies and things. And if you did save it for marriage, it'd just be until your wedding night, and that _right_ at the beginning, so you've got several weeks of awkward, 'we don't have a fucking clue what we're doing' sex, where you're trying to experiment with things, but it's not working quite right, because neither of you knows that _your_ leg should go here, and he should hold you _there_ and what have you. Better to fuck it up with some you don't care about," Hestia said, scratching her nose and then reaching for the gummy-things.

"I never criticized your choice to _have_ sex, don't criticize my choice to _not_ ," Emmeline said lightly. "And anyway, that's what the honey moon is for, really. Figuring all that sort of stuff out. Could you please toss me some of those?"

Hestia obliged. "I'm not criticizing it, Ems, I'm just curious, because _the Christian thing_ is a load of codswallop and don't say you're not fully aware of that."

"Well, yeah. I know it is. But I just... I'd like to save something special about me for the man I'm going to spend my whole life with, you know? I want to be able to give him that. It's just a way for me to say, 'Hi, hello, I've been waiting for you and you can have this to keep!'" Emmeline said, gesturing dramatically with the candy Hestia had tossed her before popping it into her mouth.

Hestia snorted. "Whatever man wants to willingly put up with me for the rest our lives will be briefed on the extent of my 'damaged goods'-like qualities. For I'm _very_ damaged, har har har."

"Oh, you are not. Don't even joke like that. You're wonderful, Hestia," Emmeline said brightly, throwing a gummy at her. "They'd be lucky to snag a woman of your unequalled experience and finely honed skill."

Hestia grinned. "I haven't got any money, you imp, so you might as well stop buttering me up."

"I'm not buttering you up for money!" Emmeline protested, laughing. "I wouldn't say no to something to drink, though. My mouth is all dry."

Reaching under her bed, Hestia pulled out two cans of Fresca. "They're warm though, but it's better than nothing, I'll wager."

"Thanks!" Emmeline said. "So what's it like, then? Sex, that is."

"Sex? Oh, I dunno," Hestia started, searching her brain for a sensible way to explain it. "It's rather wet, I suppose. And slippery. Intrusive at first, obviously, but a very fulfilled sort of feeling."

"Doesn't sound like I'm missing all that much, then. Though none of that's very detailed, really," Emmeline said, cracking open her can and taking a swig. "I expect most boys are clumsy oafs, anyway. It's probably terrible most of the time."

Hestia's smile grew wide, thinking of the last time with Sirius, last night in the forum after hours, when no one else was around. "Oh, no. It's _amazing_ when you really get into it. And when you've got a decent cock, of course. Sirius' cock! Now _that_ boy has got a cock, I'm telling you. And he knows how to use it. Just where to poke, and how hard and what rhythm, and _gods_! Lose your virginity to him if opportunity strikes, Ems, because he will show you what it's supposed to be about!"

"Hestia!" Emmeline gasped, giggling. "You're so scandalous. And I'm not going to sleep with Sirius. I mean, other reasons aside, you and him are sort of an item, aren't you?"

"I suppose so," Hestia said. "I wonder with him sometimes, because... you know what Sirius is like. I've no idea what he's thinking half the time. The only person who actually _gets_ him is Remus. James understands him, but Remus gets him and it's so completely ridiculous."

"With James and Sirius, sometimes I wonder if they talk in code, you know? Because they're so..." trailing off, Emmeline just crossed her fingers to make a gesture meant to suggest 'close'. "But Remus and him... you can tell it isn't code, but they just... they talk to each other about things neither of them are actually saying. I mean, I heard them talking in English once, and it was just... it was unbelievable."

"What were they 'talking' about, exactly?" Hestia asked.

"Oh, beats me," Emmeline answered glibly. "I couldn't tell you. They knew, obviously, but even if I'd been paying half as much attention to the actual words as I was to their general interaction, I doubt I could even explain it. They might've been being vague on purpose. Remus seemed a little uncomfortable."

"Boggles me," Hestia commented. In truth she was quite jealous, mostly because she knew deep down that what she and Sirius had was purely physical. They had no _real_ connection, and it bothered her, because she'd like to be thought of as a little more than that. "He asked me not to let Remus know that we're going at it. I mean, the whole _school_ knows that we're fucking like bunnies, but I'm not allowed to tell Remus, for reasons I am not splendid enough to know."

"Well, Remus is a proper sort of bloke, isn't he? Maybe Sirius just doesn't want him to find out because he thinks Remus would disapprove or something." Blinking, Emmeline quickly added, "Oh, not of you. Of... sexual promiscuity."

"Oh _come on_. Remus might be a bit naive, but he's not _dense_ , surely? I mean, fuck, how many girls has Sirius been with? He was banging Smethley in September, and Remus knew about that because I heard him and Sirius talking about it. He doesn't disapprove; he just wants Sirius 'to be careful.' It's Remus versus James who is all woot wooting like a cheerleader, the only accessory missing being the pompoms as he already has no balls, clearly."

"Well. James is a typical boy then, isn't he? He thinks it's grand that Sirius has convinced girls galore to drop their knickers for him. Remus is just more reserved than that, I guess." After washing some more crisps down with the lukewarm drink Hestia had provided, Emmeline burped, laughed, and then continued. "It is a bit weird he doesn't want Remus to know, though. You've no idea why?"

"Nope. Not that I haven't asked, of course, but Sirius just mutters and runs away. If I didn't know better, I'd say it's because he has a crush on him." Hestia laughed at herself. "God, now _that_ would be the day. Could you imagine ever hearing that Sirius Black was a poof?"

"Yeah right. That'll happen right after I auction off my virginity to the highest bidder on eBay."

"I don't even know what makes me think that. He just _looks_ at Remus sometimes. And not in the sort of 'mmm, jump your bones' way either, more like an 'I love you' sort of way, if that even makes sense. Remus has always seemed sort of breakable. Maybe it's a protective thing." Hestia frowned. "Am I reading too far into this?"

"Yes, you definitely, definitely are, Hestia," Emmeline said firmly. "Just... sit back and relax and enjoy the high. We'll burn out soon anyway. Or, at least I will. I mean, I won't deny that Sirius and Remus have some weird sort of relationship, and maybe they are soul mates or something, but I'll stake my camera on it being platonic. I mean, Sirius is rather girl crazy, isn't he?"

"You don't think he might be over-compensating though? Like... he doesn't want to admit it to himself?" Hestia squirmed. "I just don't want to be the girl who makes him realize it. You know, like, we're in the middle of shagging and suddenly he looks at me and says something like, 'You know, it's true. I've been lying to myself! I'm gayer than Christmas!' and then runs off and shags _Remus_ instead."

At that, Emmeline just threw her head back and laughed. The idea of it was utterly preposterous. Emmeline just couldn't see Sirius as gay. Remus on the other hand, well. He was already practically the poster boy for the Nice Gay Best Friend.

"Oh, ouch," Emmeline gasped as she tried to calm her laughter down. "Stop, stop, Hes. Let's just put in a movie or something, all right? You're being silly."

"I've just got this feeling..." Hestia said, making a face. "I don’t know. I mean. My intuition is fucked in the head, so I can't predict anything but... you remember like, a month ago, when Sirius and I did that thing with the Vol de Mort store, and we got arrested? Before that, before we left... I was at Gideon and Fabian's place just wanking about, waiting for Sirius to show up, and on my way back from the loo I overheard Gideon and Fabian talking and just _guess_ what they were going on about."

"I don't know. What?"

"Gideon must've been wondering where Sirius was, and Fabian made a rather naughty comment involving Sirius and boys, and Gideon hit him. And then Fabian said, 'Oh, come on Gid, he's obviously light in the socks,' or something like that, and Gideon said, 'Well, he certainly doesn't _not_ like blokes, if him and Lupin drunk is any indication' and _what_ do you suppose _that_ means?"

"I think the phrase is 'light in the _loafers_ ', actually," Emmeline corrected. "And it probably just means they're cuddly drunks. I think Remus is probably gay, don't you? I mean, he's never really looked at any girls, and I've only ever seen him blush because of, well. Sirius, usually. Sometimes James. That might just be because they're sort of jerks to their mates sometimes, though."

"I know Remus has a thing for Sirius, that much is blatantly obvious," Hestia said. "And yes, they're berks. But, it's Sirius... I mean. You _know_ that Gideon... if, if he feels like something is right, even just a _little_ bit..."

"Hestia, just because you have a serious case of hero worship when it comes to Gideon doesn't mean everything he says or thinks is right," Emmeline said, shooting Hestia a knowing sort of look. "And anyway, Sirius is with you right now, right? So it isn't even an issue. You can't predict the future, or change things that haven't even happened yet."

Grumbling, Hestia said, "I'm speaking in generalities with Gideon, not my own dire need to shag him. Because I really think that'll get him out of my system. BUT! That isn't the point, Ems. He's been right about so many things." Hestia sighed. "And I'm not stupid. I know that Sirius and I aren't going to last very long, and things are already wearing thin, but... I don't know. I just wish he'd even _look_ at me the same way he looks at Remus."

"Hon, I hate to say this, but if you want, like, commitment and mushy things, you're probably not going to find it in Sirius," Emmeline said gently. "Why don't you try a nicer boy? Like Kingsley or something. He'd treat you like a princess, I bet."

"Oh, probably. But like I said, there's just _something_ about him." Hestia shook her head. "I'm a tart."

"Yeah, you are. But I love you anyway," Emmeline said, leaning forward and mussing Hestia's hair. "So, tart. How about a movie now, tart?"

"Oh fuck you, gabber jaws," Hestia said with a scowl. "Since when do you talk, _ever_? And what movie anyhow, because I refuse to watch something romantic. It'll just give me ideas."

"I talk when you get me high, apparently," Emmeline said, smiling, though she did tend to talk more freely with Hestia than anyone else she knew. "And I don't care. Not a comedy. I'll laugh myself silly. Got anything completely devoid of any real emotional content all together? Like a Jackie Chan movie or something?"

"I think there's one in the chest there somewhere. And I suppose if we're trying to keep our buzz as long as possible, his ridiculous leg kicks will keep us fucked up for a little while longer."


	6. 50-Foot Drop (April 17th, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where James says fuck (or a form of it) far too many times than is necessary, Sirius is no Olympian gymnast, and Remus Lupin is A HERO. Huzzah!

"A-are you sure we're not t-too far from town? What if something happens?" Peter asked again.

"Relax, Petey old chap. You're safe with us. Sirius and me are superheroes," James answered, clapping Peter hard on the shoulder, not noticing as the boy winced. "Besides, it's great. We're all alone. We can do whatever we want."

Remus smiled at James' words, spoken so loud into the darkness and silence around them that they sounded like a shout. He accepted the paper bagged bottle Sirius offered him, taking a swig and watching curiously as Sirius veered away from them and towards the hulking building at the end of the parking lot they were standing in.

"Where are you going?" Remus called after him, but James had whooped and run after Sirius before Remus had finished the question and his words had been drowned out. "Come on, Pete. We'd better follow them."

Sirius started skipping as James caught up with him, bouncing with excitement.

"I feel..." Sirius started thoughtfully, looking up at the sky. His eyes trailed, following a pool of moonlight that dropped onto a large, bolted door. "Spontaneous," he finished, and jogged toward it.

"Sirius..." Remus said, feeling alarm bells going off already.

"Relax, mate," James said, grinning as he jogged backwards after Sirius, nearly tripping over a speed bump. He caught his balance and reached forward to take the liquor from Remus. "This place has been empty for years. Is there any way to get in, Pads?"

"No," Remus said quickly. "No breaking and entering. You promised nothing illegal."

"Fucking _relax_ , Moony," James said again.

"Anybody see a nice, big rock?" Sirius asked as he stopped at the door, surveying a huge padlock. "Or a bobby pin? Hiding one in your lovely locks, Moony?"

After squinting at the lock for a moment, James said, "The chain looks like it's nothing but rust. I bet a good kick would do it."

"M-maybe Remus is right. I don't think this is such a g-good idea," Peter stammered, looking nervous.

James passed Peter the alcohol and ruffled his hair, snickering. "Sirius, we have picked up a couple of wet blankets. Guess we'll have to explore this place on our own. Think you can get the door open?"

"I-I'm not waiting out here!" Peter protested.

"No one's going in. The lock looks fine to me," Remus said, grateful for the size of the lock.

Sirius cocked his head on the side, and crossed his arms. "You're right Jamie," he said. "A good solid kick'd do wonders."

Taking a few steps back, Sirius surveyed everything, deciding how much force to put into the kick. He stepped back a little further, a little further, and then stopped, and paused, before moving at a forceful run, kicking at a legs distance.

The old, rusted lock cracked, dropping to the concrete step below.

James whooped again, but the sound of the metal falling to the dark pavement rang louder in Remus' ears than his friend's voice. He sighed and took the bottle from Peter (who was looking a little unsteady on his feet) and prayed they wouldn't get arrested tonight.

"I've always wanted to see what's inside," James said, pushing the door open. It creaked loudly, scraping against the floor and banging against some barrier on the other side at about ninety degrees. The sound echoed, coming back at them in waves and James couldn't help but grin at Sirius. "Wicked."

Sirius grinned back and slid inside excitedly. "Whoa," he said, before he could stop himself; the place was, as expected, dark and grungy, but it was surprisingly HUGE. It looked much bigger inside than outside. Sirius voice rebounded off all the walls.

James pushed in behind Sirius, bouncing on the balls of his feet and punching Sirius excitedly. "We should see if we can get to the upper floors. It looks brighter up there."

Remus sighed and stepped through the door, pulling Peter with him and following his bolder friends.

"Just stick close, okay Pete? If something happens we'll run for it," he said in what he hoped was a reassuring sort of way, though the words sounded awkward to him and he wondered if he hadn't had enough to drink too.

Peter involuntarily twitched. He knew he should've stayed with Frank and Kingsley.

"We should," Sirius said, stretching his neck back all the way, surveying upward. Chains were dangling from the rafters. "I think there might be holes in the roof."

James walked, hands groping blindly in the semi-darkness. The place was more shadows than anything, as the only light was slanting in from windows too high to get much from the streetlights. Good thing the moon was almost full. After a moment of stumbling, he found some sturdy stairs in the corner with a rickety railing that shook as James touched it.

"Here," James called to the others. "Let's go up."

"Oh Lord," Remus sighed, following along behind and walking carefully. Peter's hand was clutching his sleeve and Remus knew if he fell, they'd both fall. "This is a really bad idea! We should just go."

"Oh shush, woman," Sirius hissed, irritably. "You don't have to come. You and Pete wait down here, or something."

It was proving difficult to see, and once reaching James, Sirius grabbed a finger full of his shirt, and the two made their way slowly and carefully up the stairs. Sirius didn't dare touch the railing; he knew that if he did, he'd most certainly end up flat on the cold, stone floor.

"Oh, and leave you two to kill yourselves? No thank you," Remus hissed, motioning for Pete to go up before him. "Stick to the wall. The railing won't hold."

"Okay," Peter squeaked softly. He'd be fine if he just followed James and Sirius. They were bigger than him; if the stairs held them they'd hold Peter too. There was no reason to be scared. Even if it was dark and there were echoing, creaky noises all around and there was a good chance they'd all fall to their _deaths_ or be arrested or be shot at by some crazy old security guard or... No. Sirius and James would make sure they were all right. Bad things didn't happen to them, they were _Sirius and James_.

"Shit," James cursed and there was a thump in the dark as he tripped and caught his balance quickly with a heavy foot down. "I'm fine. I was just expecting more stairs. There's another flight though, I think. Shall we keep going?"

"Obviously," Sirius replied, indifferent. "To the left or the right, mate?"

Sirius squinted into the dark, trying to pick out another railing. He was straining his vision, perhaps, but he was fairly sure that there was nothing there.

"Um. Right. Careful, though. There's a railing on each side of this one, and I don't trust either," James said, starting up, step by cautious step.

"This is high enough. There won't be anything up there. I'm sure of it," Remus interjected. "It's too dark. Who knows if it's safe."

"That's the thrill of adventure, Moony," Sirius scoffed. "Do I have to call you 'woman' again?"

"How are you doing, Peter?" Remus asked, his voice resigned. He'd follow them, he knew. He always would.

"I'm fine. You d-don't have to look out for me or a-anything," Peter answered too quickly, but Remus didn't reply. Instead, he just followed his friends up the second flight.

This was longer than the last and when the four boys reached the top, they could see out the windows. James was right that it was brighter up here, but if they were at window height, they had to be near four stories up. That was a long drop, should any of them fall.

Sirius looked up. Water had dropped onto his face. He was right; there were several holes in the ceiling, through which moonlight was drifting into the building.

They moved forward a little, toward the windows (the glass was broken) and Sirius dared touch the railing, which creaked loudly. He shook it.

"This is ridiculously loose," he said, and was then suddenly pulled forward by his grasp on the railing, as it started to fall outward. "Oh shit!" Sirius exclaimed, letting go and shuffling backward quickly.

The iron railing continued to bend.

Remus snapped out a hand and grabbed Sirius hard by the elbow, pinching in his haste, though Sirius seemed to have his footing by then. He watched the railing fall, clanging and screeching and eventually, hanging half on and hall off the edge of the stairs, not completely detached but now ever more useless than it had been. After a moment of his heard thudding in his chest, Remus let go of his friend to tuck his hair behind his ears, looking at Sirius reproachfully.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Remus said after the painful echoes ceased and it was silent again. Peter was shaking at his side.

"Oh, come on," James laughed and took the alcohol from Remus, taking a swig. "Everything is fine, right?"

"Healthy as a ram," Sirius replied, banging on his chest and making a Tarzan catcall. "Let's keep going then. I want to try those beams there, by the window."

"Go on then, mate," James said, settling down against the back wall. "I'll watch."

"James, _don't_ ," Remus scolded. "Don't encourage him. You're not going to climb on rusty beams while drunk in an abandoned... whatever this is while we've no way to get help if you fall. Don't be stupid."

"Woman," Sirius teased simply, and eased his way past James determinedly, then sauntered toward the window (as best one can saunter on an unstable floor). Reaching it he raised his eyebrows at the beams overhead. They went from the wall behind him all the way to the opposite side of the building. Sirius wondered if he could get across without falling off, then debated whether being a wank to spite Remus was really worth neck-breaking or death. He blinked.

He gripped the metal bar and hoisted himself upward. He sat on the beam for a moment, turned his head and smiled and waved to his mates, then moved carefully to his feet and started walking outward, over the vast black abyss.

"Sirius! Stop it!" Remus shouted and looked desperately at James.

James shrugged as if to say, _you know almost as well as me, you can't stop Sirius doing anything he wants to do_. He thought Sirius was being daft, but protesting would just egg him on. Sirius always had to push the envelope. He'd never done it from so high up, though.

Peter whimpered and collapsed to his knees next to James, watching Sirius with wide eyes.

Remus pressed his hands to his face for a moment, as though it would erase the picture of Sirius balancing on a gently swaying beam above a straight drop to hard concrete. When he opened them, however, Sirius was just a few steps farther from safety and Remus had to act.

"Sirius, please. Come down. We don't even know if there are stairs on that side," Remus begged, the words almost sticking to the fear bitter in his throat as he moved to stand where Sirius had climbed onto the beam. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"If there aren't stairs, I'll just walk back over," Sirius said, taking a few more shaky steps forward. "This is just like walking across the monkey bars at the park, mate," he added. "Just, you know. A little higher."

The only thing Remus could think to do is pull himself up onto the beam, managing somehow not to shake it.

"Come back or I'll follow you, and you know my balance isn't half as good as yours," he hissed, panicked.

"Remus," Sirius started, quirking an eyebrow and taking another tentative step forward. "You hate heights."

"I know," Remus said, shakily shifting out of a sitting position to crouch on the beam, hands on the metal in front of him. "So don't make me come out there."

"Hey!" James hollered. "Stop fucking around. Pete looks about ready to wet himself."

"Get the fuck down, Remus," Sirius said, a little worriedly. "Go back."

"Come back with me," Remus said determinedly, standing up and fighting the urge to gag. If he fell now, he'd still land on the second floor, but Sirius was out past all the railings and Remus wouldn't let him do something stupid. "If I come out there, Sirius, and I fall, it'll be your fault."

"Don't be an idiot just because I'm an idiot," Sirius replied, but didn't move. He wasn't going to let a suicidal diabetic tell him what he should and shouldn't do.

Remus took a step forward, his heart thudding in his chest; he was trying desperately to think of some way to get Sirius to come back without actually having to go out there, but Sirius was being thick and Remus couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall.

"How ironic would it be if I fell because I passed out from fear rather than because I'd lost my balance?" Remus asked idly, trying to keep himself from looking down. "What sort of noise do you suppose I'd make when I hit the floor?"

"Seriously, you fuckers. That's enough!" James shouted, but Remus hardly heard him.

"Not funny, Remus," Sirius said quietly, a little disturbed by the means of which Remus was trying to get him down. "Not funny at all."

"Come back, then," Remus pleaded. "Just come back with me."

Sirius thought hard for a moment. He glanced into the darkness, then back at Remus' pleading face. Resignedly he began taking slow, easy steps back towards him.

Remus breathed a sigh of relief and began shuffling tentatively backwards, towards safety.

"Finally. Have you both gone fucking crazy?" James demanded, moving to stand next to the beam and help them down.

Remus lowered himself into a sitting position and watched Sirius carefully, not yet climbing off. Sirius wasn't safe yet, James could wait a few more moments.

Sirius, quite frankly, felt like the biggest tart in Salcombe as he made his way back toward James, Remus, Peter, and the upper landing. He must've had a secret death wish, or something similar, and his stomach churned as he glanced downward into a seemingly never-ending pit of DOOM. Then, glancing back at Remus, Sirius slipped.

His eyes went wide in surprise as he arched backward, almost gracefully. His back hit the beam with a thud, then he rolled and fell, moaning, in a ridiculous amount of pain. He grasped the beam with his left hand awkwardly, nails scraping at the metal as he fell.

Dangling downward he was sliding off quickly, panicking, and yelling for help to anyone and everyone at the top of his lungs. His spine felt numb, and he struggled to raise his right hand to grab the beam.

"Fuck, fuck fuck!" he yelled, hyperventilating.

Remus grabbed onto the beam with both hands as it swung, throwing him off balance. Remus thought he should move out of the way. He wasn't strong enough or fast enough and it should be James up there, pulling Sirius back as he always had.

"No, there's no time!" James shouted. "Just go, Remus!"

So he did. Remus slid forward, crawling to Sirius and grabbing his arm with one hand, pulling. "You're all right, you'll be all right. Just focus."

"Now, pull him up!" James screamed.

Sirius was trying to focus, he really, _really_ was. But he was dangling on and un-steady beam, he could barely hold onto Remus, and he had almost convinced himself that he was about to plummet to his death.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," he chanted, however ironically. "I don't want to die, Remus!"

"Sirius, shut up. Get your arms around the beam and let Remus pull you up," James snapped. "Once you've got a grip with your upper body, you'll be fine."

Remus shifted his grip a bit and pulled, lodging his legs around the beam and hoping he could do it. "Listen to James, all right? You'll be all right. You'll be fine. I promise I won't drop you."

Sirius was dangling what felt like a million feet above the ground. Hard concrete. SPLAT. It was all he could think about. He struggled to reach his arms around the rusted metal, scraping furiously with his fingernails, searching for something to grasp. "I can't do it," he said, probably for the first time in his life, unable to get a decent grip.

"Yes you can," Remus said, pulling him just a bit higher and struggling to hold on. He knew his fingers were bruising Sirius' arm with how tightly he was holding him, but there was no other way. "Reach your other arm around by my leg, okay? And then swing your legs up."

"Sirius, you have to do it. There's no can't. Can't is a cement floor fifty fucking feet below you and _death_. That is can't. Now grab on and swing your legs up," James added.

"That isn't necessary, James," Remus said calmly, and wondered if he was in shock. "By my leg, Sirius. Can you reach that? There's a bit of a lip and you might be able to get a grip."

"That rhymed Remus," Sirius said oddly and stupidly, then reached as best he could by Remus' leg. Fingers tight around the lip and with the support of Remus' weight, Sirius managed to slowly climb (although it felt more like he was swimming in mid-air) and kick his legs on and around the beam.

"Oh dear God," he said.

Remus didn't let go of Sirius then, didn't ever want to because that had been too close, and he didn't care if hugging wasn't manly enough and he just wrapped his arms around Sirius.

"Fuck you. Fuck _you_ ," Remus whispered into Sirius' ear, dizzied by a relief so strong it made him want to cry or puke or punch. "You're such an idiot."

"Guys. Get over here and off the fucking beam," James said, his voice cracking. "Now, if you don't mind. It's time for solid ground."

Sirius felt relief, confusion and nausea all at once, the mixture of emotions hitting him like a frying pan to the head. He leaned out of Remus' embrace carefully, enough that when he threw up it went downward rather than on Remus' arm.

"Fuck," he mumbled.

The pause between Sirius vomiting and the stuff hitting the floor was far too long for Remus' tastes and he began inching backwards, all of his muscles aching in protest. He'd likely strained something. Maybe everything.

"Come on," he breathed, still hanging on to Sirius with one hand until he was far enough back that he felt James pulling him off the beam. They hadn't been too far out, but certainly far enough.

Once Remus was off, Sirius crawled forward, allowing James to help his feet touch the floor. He fell forward, gasping for the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Peter squeaked somewhere in the distance.

Sirius threw up again.

James grabbed what was left of the alcohol, holding it out to Sirius. "All right, there mate?" he asked. "This might calm your nerves, if you're up to drinking it."

"That's it? He just about got himself killed and you offer him alcohol to soothe his nerves?" Remus snapped. "You're both insane. Do you know that?"

"Can w-we go home? N-now? Please?" Peter said suddenly. "I w-want to go home."

Sirius took the bottle gratefully, downing the remainder in one gulp. He passed the bottle back to James, stood up and took a deep breath.

He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell Remus that he was a fucking idiot, and that he was a horrible friend for making Remus do that, as well as a complete tart for losing his mind halfway through Remus' rescue mission. But, no. Sirius wanted his cool back, his poise. He wanted to forget that he had slipped. That he had screamed. That Remus had had to save him from his death.

He stepped around his vomit, walking past Peter, and headed toward the stairs without as much as a thank you.

"We aren't insane. He's all right, isn't he? No point fucking screaming at him," James said diplomatically, draping a friendly arm over Peter's shoulders.

Remus' anger evaporated (it always went quickly whenever it happened to appear) and he stepped forward, touching Sirius' shoulder before he could start down the stairs. "You _are_ all right, aren't you?"

Sirius turned his head, bit his lip and cocked an eyebrow. He felt an odd sort of heat rise in his face at how he and Remus were so close together, yet not as close as they had been on the beam. He, weirdly, wanted to kiss Remus. He cleared his throat. "I'll manage," he said, throat scratchy.

"Okay," Remus said, feeling his face go warm as he curled his hand around Sirius' shoulder. He still didn't want to stop touching Sirius and he couldn't bring himself to move his hand just yet. "I don't think I've ever been that scared in my whole life."

Sirius forced a small laugh. "It's that Marauder dynamic we've been telling you about, Rem," he said. "Someone will always save the day, right?" Sirius felt oddly embarrassed in Remus' presence and wondered momentarily if he'd lost his cool forever. Sirius only felt this way when he was talking to a really sexy bird. Remus (despite the amount of times a day that Sirius called him 'woman') was certainly not such.

"Come on, let's go find a pay phone. I might have enough for a cab," James said, nudging Remus. He wasn't sure what was going on with the two of them, but he figured it could be attributed to the whole near death experience bit.

Remus realized then that he and Sirius were blocking the stairs, and began to carefully make his way down them after Sirius. "At the very least we should learn from this experience," Remus said suddenly, smiling a little.

"Always d-do what you say?" Peter suggested. "N-no b-breaking into dark, abandoned b-buildings late at night?"

"Sure, but that'd be boring," James said brightly. "I say we just buy Padfoot a leash."


	7. Boys Don't Cry (June 2, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Sirius and James are as thoughtless as usual, Remus is rather ashamed of being pleased with himself, and Peter just says fuck it and does maths.

"That's a terrible story. I don't know _why_ he's friends with you, you big bullies," a tall blonde girl laughed, not much sounding like she meant it. In fact, she sounded much more like she thought Sirius was a capital fellow to be sure, and her hand on his arm didn't discourage that idea.

Remus, who'd entered the cafeteria just in time to hear the comment, knew immediately that something was going on. _Please let it not have been a story about me_ , Remus thought in the back of his mind, even though that meant he was wishing ill on Peter because James was right there and smiling a little, even though he didn't look nearly as interested in the girls as Sirius did.

"Hi," Remus said, finally close enough to speak.

"Hey Remus. How was the library?" James asked, grinning, and for a moment Remus thought he _had_ been the butt of the joke, but then he noticed the girls were smiling blandly at him, in that polite, distanced way that strangers had. If there was no sneer of recognition, they probably hadn't been talking about him.

"Fine. Lots of books, as usual," Remus said with a small smile. "Where's Peter?"

The group of girls burst into giggles as Sirius and James exchanged amused glances. "He was here just a moment ago," Sirius said vaguely, waving a hand in the direction of the nearest exit. "I suppose he was a little put off by the context of our discussion, wouldn't you say, ladies?"

Ah. So it had been Peter then. Remus frowned a little, and then tried not to look disapproving. It wasn't his place to scold them anyway. "Oh? What were you talking about?"

"How Wormtail got his nickname," James said, snickering.

"You know he hates it when you tell that story," Remus said, and then blinked. "Hang on. You told it while he was _here_? You two!"

The girls seem to take this as their cue to skitter off, still giggling wildly. Sirius and James looked neither abashed or slightly reprimanded. In fact, if anything, they looked proud of themselves.

"Aw, he takes a bit of joshing too seriously, Moony," Sirius said.

"Yes, well. Perhaps," Remus said. Or perhaps you two just forget not everyone is like you. "I'm going to go drop my books off in my room. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Is that code for 'I'm going to go check on ickle Petey Wormtail'?" James asked, smiling.

"Of course not. Don't be silly," Remus said, making for the door he'd only just come through. "I don't like carrying books around, is all. They're heavy and I especially don't trust you two around them. You don't have enough respect for them."

Sirius snorted. "Remus, just say what you mean, right? I mean, the three of us know what you're leaving to do. The bloke'll never grow a spine if you keep mothering him the way you do."

"I don't mother him. And maybe he'll never even get the chance to grow a spine if you two keep tearing him down all the time," Remus said tentatively, hoping he didn't sound too much like a wet blanket. But they didn't know what it felt like. Remus did.

"Oh, just go," James said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure he's fine, but you'll _worry_ if you don't check, won't you?"

Remus, tactfully, did not answer.

"Oh, and Mother, do tell," Sirius teased, never one to let sleeping dogs lie. "What's for dinner tonight? I do so fancy your world famous meatloaf."

Remus blushed and gave Sirius a sheepish, helpless sort of look, accompanied by a pathetic half-shrug, before stepping out the door and heading up to his and Peter's room. James and Sirius just don't understand. They _couldn't_ even if they wanted to. It's not their fault; they're just different.

"Peter?" Remus called as soon as he'd stepped into their room. There was a boy-shaped lump on the bed, and Remus quietly shut the door behind him. "Are you all right?"

Peter (the boy-shaped lump) wriggled under the covers and let out a dry sob that he tried to hide by coughing. "F-fine," he managed quietly, burying his face into his pillow.

"Oh Pete," Remus said, feeling both awkward and sympathetic. Awkward because it was always awkward trying to comfort teary friends, especially if they were _boys_ , and sympathetic because he'd been there. Given, he'd also been a lot younger at the time, and he wasn't sure he'd actually sobbed, but he still understood the general feeling. "You can't let them get to you this much, Peter. They _are_ your friends, even if they don't act like it sometimes, and you have to remember they mean well on the whole."

Peter was doubtful. He thought that Sirius and James were the ultimate sort of cool, and he'd always wanted to be like them, to have their suave sort of presence, and confidence. Peter didn't know what it was to not be self-conscious. Peter didn't have any sort of grasp on what it meant to be cool. He was and always would be the chubby tag-along who always said the wrong thing, and who was always the butt of all the jokes.

"How d-did they m-mean well b-by t-telling those _g-girls_ about the w-hole, y-y'know. _Wormtail_ t-thing," Peter asked. "I h-hate that n-name," he added.

Remus sighed. Indeed, how _did_ they mean well?

"They just, they don't think about how it will make others feel, Pete. I mean, they make fun of each other all the time, and it's just because they're so confident that it doesn't really bother them," Remus said. "They don't know what it's like to, you know, be like you and me."

"T-They don't treat you t-the same way they t-treat m-me," Peter argued, shifting a little under his blankets. "They b-brag about you a-all the time when y-you're not around, d-did you know? I bet t-they t-take the mickey o-out of me w-when I'm not about."

Remus only barely refrained from expressing shocked interest in Pete's statement. He hadn't known they bragged about Remus. But now wasn't the time to ask about that. Now he had to come up with something to say to soothe Peter.

"I highly doubt they _brag_ , and even if they do, that isn't the point. Peter, you're still one of their best friends. We're the Marauders, even if I still think that's a rather ridiculous nickname. And they _don't_ take the mickey out of you when you're not around. They just... you know how they are. They think it's funny to act like prats towards each other."

Remus suspected he wasn't actually helping very much.

"R-Remus, you're n-not helping," Peter confirmed.

"Sorry," Remus said. Sighing, he sat down on the edge of Peter's bed and added, "Well, they _are_ your friends and they _do_ like you. They just act like that because that's how they _are_. And even if you don't believe that, I'm your friend, and you can count on me for anything. I promise."

Peter was quiet for a few moments, reflecting on Remus' words. He was right of course. Sirius and James were still his mates, even if they were a pair of twits the better part of the time. Even if most of the conversations he was involved in with them were about _him_. Even if they'd told that ruddy ridiculous _Wormtail_ story to practically everyone in the United Kingdom.

He was still a Marauder. He was still one of them, this elite group that plenty of other blokes in the school wanted to be part of. And if everything else failed, well. Yes. He could always count on Remus to make it all seem worthwhile. "Yea," he said softly. "Though I do w-wish they'd shut u-up some of the time."

"You could always tell them that, you know," Remus suggested, glad that Peter sounded like he was on the up. "Next time they try to say something, just tell them to shut up. And tell everyone how Sirius is afraid of bees and how James has purple pyjamas with hearts on them from his grandmother."

Peter sighed. "I m-might try that," he said thoughtfully, "B-but what good would it d-do, really? Everyone'd j-just think them _cooler_ for being afraid of and owning s-stupid things."

"You're probably right. Such is life, Peter," Remus said honestly. "I guess we just have to grin bear it and stick together. Like, for example, I promise I won't ever tell them you... were this upset about it."

Nodding, Peter said, "Not t-that they won't think I r-ran off to h-have a good cry anyhow, but t-thanks."

"Thinking and knowing are two different things, Peter," Remus said, smiling. "If I've learned anything from them, it's that if there's no evidence, denying something frankly enough will mean that no one can prove otherwise, no matter how strongly they suspect."

"I think that's w-why Sirius calls y-you a girl sometimes," Peter said. "Because he h-hasn't anything else to m-make fun of y-you for."

Remus had never thought about it that way. That's not to say James and Sirius didn't make fun of him sometimes (like they had in the cafeteria only a short while ago), but very often it was innocuous. It wasn't anything quite so personal as what they used against Peter. Remus had never really considered himself self-confident, but he supposed in a small way, it made sense. He'd had many years to perfect his defence mechanisms, and perhaps they were better than he'd thought. Perhaps he was more self-possessed than he'd given himself credit for.

Remus, of course, said none of that. Instead, he commented, "Well, at least Sirius doesn't put jam in your trousers."

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "I'm sure I d-don't want to know."

"Indeed," Remus said, glad he wouldn't have to explain as putting jam in Remus' trousers had never been a malicious thing on Sirius' part. "Are you all right now? Because I should go back down. I told them I was just dropping my books off."

"Yes," Peter said, although he wasn't really sure. "I'll do a bit of m-maths, or something. And Remus?"

"Yes?" Remus asked, pausing before he opened the door.

"T-tell them I'm asleep or something, w-will you?"

"Sure, of course," Remus said, and mentally voted on 'or something' since he doubted they'd believe that Peter was sleeping. Not that they'd believe any excuse Remus made, really. "See you later, Peter."

And after offering Peter an encouraging smile, Remus made his way back downstairs, intending to check the cafeteria to see if they were still there. Before he got there, however, he ran into Sirius in the hall leading to the stairs.

Sirius grinned at the sight of Remus and practically bounced toward him. "Jamie went off to try and seduce Evans with his deplorable romantic vocabulary," he said. "How's Petey doing, Mum?"

"Fine, actually. Wasn't feeling well, but now he's doing homework," Remus said. It was only a little bit of a lie, and Sirius could probably totally see through it anyway. "Why do you ask?"

Shrugging, Sirius said, "Because he looked about ready to bawl when he left the cafeteria, when we were talking about his bollocks and all. Awfully touchy."

"You're a cad, Sirius Black," Remus said, but was distracted from trying to make it sound like he meant it by something Peter had said earlier. "Do you brag about me? I mean, I'm sure you don't. But I just, um. Someone said that when I'm not there, you know..."

Sirius smirked. "We just go on and on and on about your exquisite breasts, of course," he said, and then laughed. "Lighten up, old boy. We think you're spiffing, you know," he added in a moment of rare seriousness. "We wouldn't want you to feel, I dunno. _Unimportant_ , or something."

"Oh. Well. Thank you, then," Remus said, feeling even more awkward than he had earlier with Peter. Remembering his cause, however, made Remus add, "Why can't you say things like that to Peter sometimes? Just, just every so often or something."

"Well, Peter isn't you, you know," Sirius answered. "To be honest with you, James and I only let him tag along in the beginning because you were so adamant about it. He got drawn into everything unintentionally. And nothing _against_ him, as he's an okay bloke most of the time, but, well. Not you, or me or James. We have our own sort of... um, what's the word? Dynamic!"

Remus felt terrible that he felt pleased. He shouldn't, it wasn't fair to Peter, but he did, immensely, and so he just tried not to let it show as he stepped a bit closer and said, "Sirius, don't you ever, ever say that where Peter can hear you. Promise me."

Sirius nodded. "I promise, then. I might be a wank a lot of the time, but I wouldn't want to push the poor boy over the edge or anything."

"Good," Remus said, and then couldn't help but smile in a pleased sort or way. "And for goodness sakes, _please_ stop telling people the Wormtail story."

"We could stop I suppose. It's not as though we haven't told everyone already. Anyhow," Sirius slung an arm over Remus' shoulder, and kissed his mate sloppily on the cheek, "Let's say you and I shimmy on down to the kitchen's and score some early pudding, yea? I simply _cannot_ wait another hour for dinner."

Wiping slobber from his cheek, Remus responded, "Well, I suppose I'd better go with you, hadn't I? You'll just get yourself into trouble without me."


	8. Nipple Transgressions (June 12, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where James' singing skills do not go over well, and Sirius possibly contracts an STI.

After finally, _finally_ , escaping from tea at home by spouting a bunch of laughably fake excuses that his mother certainly saw through, James made his way down town. One nice thing about Salcombe weekends was that he not only got to pop back to his parents' house and eat some of his favourite pie (which his mother always made for him), but he could be as independent as he liked. Just now, for example, he was on his way to meet Sirius at the only piercing parlour in town. Sirius was going to get his nipple pierced and James couldn't wait to watch. He thought it was a fitting way to spend the very last Salcombe weekend, a celebration of the end of their second year at East Portlemouth Prep.

And Sirius was going to be sticking a great, huge _needle_ though his _nipple_. Ouch. James was thrilled.

***

Sirius had every intention of making it to the piercing place on time. A five minute giveway perhaps, but on time. Because he and James had agreed to meet at two. Sirius could've gotten there easily within the fifteen minutes remaining before that giveway expired and James punched him in the face. But. But! How does one say no to a double-D with her own car?

"Hi," the girl said, and licked her lips. She was perched on the hood of her rusted bucket of an automobile wearing shorts up to her hipbones.

"Hi," Sirius replied absently, following her breasts to her crotch without even trying to be a gentleman. He stopped walking, and paused for a moment. "Is that your car?" He asked.

***

James jogged up the sidewalk and spotted Holy Ones, the piercing parlour. Leaning against the wall he checked his watch. A minute to two. Sirius would be at least another five. He was never on time. James doubted he ever would be, unless a bird out there existed who could somehow whip him into shape. James doubted it.

But anyway, he didn't mind a couple minutes of waiting, not if it meant he got to see Sirius punch a hole in himself. It was so rebellious. If James had anything to rebel against, that's certainly how he'd do it.

***

It wasn't long before Sirius found his clothing being removed, and himself straddled in the back of Rena's (the girl did indeed have a name) car as he sucked the girl's neck earnestly.

James and nipple piercings were far gone from his mind.

***

James was bored. He had never been good at waiting and he'd had pie just a little while ago. There was lots of sugar in pie. He grinned widely and took a deep breath, casting a wicked look around.

"This is the song that never ends. Yes it goes on and on my friends. Some people started singing it not knowing what it was and they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that never ends. Yes it..."

***

Sirius groaned. There was nothing quite like random mid-afternoon shagging. As Rena climbed off of him, Sirius checked his watch. 2:10. Oh well. At least the piercing spot was right around the corner.

Rena was replacing her shirt. "Hey, think you could give me a ride?" He asked her.

***

James had quickly tired of singing (and of being shouted at by three different strangers and one old lady from his mother's church group) and had quickly moved on to drumming on his knees with his hands. He paused to check his watch. Twelve minutes after.

"I should just leave. I'm going to leave. Serves him right, he can pierce his nipple all by his onesie," James said aloud. Even as he spoke he dropped to sit down on the curb. _Stupid Sirius. What's taking him, anyway? What does he have to do that's more important than this_?

***

Rena's car turned the corner and Sirius spotted James sitting on the opposite side of the street looking as though he wanted nothing more than to be given a puppy for Christmas.

"Prongs!" Sirius called, and grinned, waving like an idiot when James glanced up in surprise. Rena pulled over and Sirius hopped out and ruffled her hair.

"Later," he said indifferently, and Rena offered James a smile before driving away.

"Mate. What the _fuck_. You're... seventeen minutes late," James whined, getting to his feet, ignoring Rena's smile for a moment before cocking his head at Sirius. "You screwed her, didn't you? Honestly, mate. Can't even keep it in your pants to come meet your best mate. I hope they cancelled your appointment," James lied, rolling his eyes.

Sirius merely grinned, and shrugged. "Seriously Jamie, you are ignorant to the bliss that is meeting someone on the street and shagging! You should try it sometime. It's rather easy in this area."

Sirius led them into the piercing shop. A short-haired woman sat at the counter. "Sirius?" She questioned.

Sirius drew a blank. He had no idea who the fuck she was. "Hey you!" He exclaimed convincingly enough for the woman who smiled broadlyin return.

"You never called back," she said.

"Ah, well, school, you know? I've an appointment," he added awkwardly, gesturing toward the book by her arm.

"Right," she replied.

"Oh yes, all the wonderful things I miss out on. Awkward fumblings, diseases, even more awkward reunions... I'm happy with Lily, thanks," James said earnestly.

"You don't go out with her mate. Delusional much?" The woman led them both into a backroom where a rather burly looking fellow covered in tattoos was sitting on a stool.

"Piercing," she told him, then left.

"Which one of you, and where to?" He asked, surveying Sirius and James.

"Me. Nipple." Sirius grinned and sat himself in the chair following burly-man's gesture toward it.

"Shirt off," he said.

James shrugged. "But I will one day. That's the beauty of true love, mate," James said as Sirius peeled off his shirt and leaned back in the chair.

The piercing artist began disinfecting a long, deadly looking needle, a small hoop, and some other gadgets, placing them on a black cloth on a tray near Sirius' elbow.

"How much is it going to hurt?" James asked curiously, shooting Sirius a look.

"Quite a bit," the piercer replied, now rubbing antiseptic on the nipple Sirius had indicated.

He pulled out Sirius' nipple and aligned the needle carefully. "Ready?" He asked, and the second Sirius had nodded he drove the needle upward.

"HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!" Sirius yelled, slightly more high-pitched than usual.

James grinned a little, but warily, as Sirius screamed. He reached over and punched his friend in the arm lightly. "All right, Pads?"

Sirius' nipple was throbbing as the piercer slid the hoop in. "Fuck off," he said, flinching.

As it started to bleed a little, James took a step back and wrinkled his nose. "All too happy." The burly piercing artist finished sliding the hoop through and put in the ball, moving to set his instruments by the sink. "He's bleeding, you know," James added helpfully.

The piercer ignored James and handed Sirius a pamphlet and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Read it, use it, or your nipple will fall off."

Sirius screwed up his face and gingerly replaced his t-shirt. "Buggerfuck," he mumbled, wincing.

"Pay out front," the piercer added, gesturing toward the door.

James watched Sirius wince himself into a standing position, and nearly bounced out of the room after him. "Can I see it again later, huh? Can I touch it once it heals? It's looks so tough, mate. How much did it really hurt? Are you going to cry like a girl once we leave?"

"Shut up mate, before I simulate for you. With wire cutters." He handed the woman at the counter a crumpled up ball of bills and waited as she sorted through it and started handing back his change.

"He's cranky because he's crying inside," James informed the woman seriously, nodding and trying to look wise. She looked amused but a little afraid to speak to him.

James and Sirius walked out of Holy Ones Piercing Parlour and into the late afternoon sun, squinting against the glare. 

"This hurts like a BITCH," Sirius moaned. He looked a bit like a robot, as even moving his arms made it hurt.

James grinned. "But it's so, so worth it. Your parents would _kill_ you. Literally. Kill you dead."

Sirius nodded. "Mum's going to think I've gotten into a fist fight. Or that I'm not eating enough prunes or something. Dad'll probably figure it out, but he never says anything unless mum yells first."

"Don't worry," James assured him. "Just blame it on me somehow. They don't much like me. So long as they don't kick me out before dessert."

"They don't like anyone James," Sirius replied honestly.

"You know, we could just go to my place for dinner. Your parents be damned," James suggested half-heartedly. "Mum would love to see you. She asked about you all through tea."

"Mum would skin me alive mate, you know that. 'I'm only home every other weekend,' blah blah. Honestly though. Butcher knife. She'd do it." Sirius shook his head and flinched again. His nipple was on fire. A fire with stinging wasps and the peroxide stuff you put on cuts. "Ow."

"Well, buck up then. Just hope the huggy aunts aren't there," James said cheerily, clapping Sirius on the shoulder and leading him towards his parents' house by way of a weaving path all over the sidewalk. "Just hope they don't notice the bloodstain, Pads."


	9. Art Class (June 17, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Severus likes sad clowns, James is Prince Charming, and Sirius' mum gets her hair done.

Students chatted casually in the warm room, relishing the fresh summer breeze coming in from the open window facing the forest. Frank leaned across a paint stained table to kiss Alice gently on the lips just as the door to the hallway opened and the teacher walked in.

"Afternoon, artists. Right then. Let's begin. Alice, I believe you were first?" Professor Hagrid said without any preamble.

Frank quickly leaned back into his seat and offered his girlfriend an encouraging smile as she got up nervously from her chair, carrying two covered canvases. She propped them up on the sill of the chalkboard and faced the class.

"I did two oil paintings for my project. Um. Here," she said and quickly lifted the material covering them. Both paintings were of kittens.

"Comment," Professor Hagrid instructed the class with a wave of a paintbrush he promptly stuck into his hair before getting up to walk to the back of the room.

"Very realistic," Lily said. And they were. Rather creepy, and with bows, yes. But realistic.

"They scare me a bit love," Sirius said. "No offence.”

"You seemed to capture the texture of the fur very well, but the eyes are anatomically a bit big, I think," Remus said.

"Well, I think they're adorable. And I love the pastel colours in the backgrounds," Frank said loudly. "The only criticism I have is that there aren't more of the cute little things."

James snorted. "If Kingsley heard you say that, he'd make you eat your own balls, mate," he hissed. Clearing his throat, he spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Why'd you choose kittens? I mean, what do the paintings _mean_ to you?"

Alice blushed slightly. "I just... well. I like kittens," she said. "This one," she gestured to the orange tabby on the right, "I did off of a photo of my own kitten at home. He's named _Frankie_ ," she added, sending a sweet smile in Frank's direction. "The other I just made up."

"I-I think they're wonderful! Just wonderful! Much better than mine," Peter said quickly.

"Speaking of which, your turn Pettigrew. Go," Hagrid said, directing Peter with his humongous arms, bits of hair poking out the sleeve of his smock. "Not bad Alice. Cute. Eyes are a bit scary."

Peter made a bit of a squeaking noise and grabbed his folder. He scurried to the front, passing Alice on his way. He'd framed four comic strips with unevenly cut construction board matting. He set them out and stepped back, nervously wringing his hands.

"They're, um, comics. Of my f-friends," he stuttered. "I th-thought they were funny. So h-here they are."

"You gave me really big ears," Sirius said dryly.

"They're caricatures. They aren't supposed t-to b-be realistic," Peter assured him, his voice a little desperate.

"I think you did a good job, Peter," Remus said honestly. "They're amusing and realistic. Though I don't always carry a dictionary with me."

"You got James' head right anyhow," Sirius said with a grin. Peter had depicted it rather large indeed. "Is that supposed to be his ego? Is that why he's stroking it?"

Peter flushed a dark red but looked quite pleased with himself as everyone laughed, even James.

"Right, right. Very interesting, Pettigrew, but you should try to clean up those lines. Snape, you've been very quiet. Up you go!" Hagrid called, nodding at the boy sulking in the corner.

Severus scowled and walked up to the front carrying a canvas draped with a ratty looking sheet. He laid it on the edge of the chalkboard and pulled the fabric off, revealing an oil painting of an angry clown with blood over his face.

"The art speaks for itself," he said sullenly.

"Yea," Sirius agreed. "And it says 'I need therapy'."

Lily screwed up her face. "That's... well. I don't really know what that is."

James rolled his eyes. "Bad?" he said brashly.

"Morbid. A bit dark. But it's still art, James," Remus said quickly, hoping to divert any sort of confrontation before it started.

"A clown is a symbol of happiness to children, but as we get older we realize they're just people and they have just as many problems as the rest of us," Emmeline said softly. "Perhaps it was particularly hard for the artist to accept that. Or perhaps that reading of the painting is entirely due to the experience of the viewer."

Everyone looked at Emmeline in astonishment, including Hagrid. "Well," he said. "What do you say of that Severus?"

Snape shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out the window. "Thank you for your input, Vance. Can I sit down now?" he asked.

"I suppose. Emmeline, why don't you go next?" Hagrid said, motioning to the projector Emmeline had brought to class and set up early.

Emmeline pushed her glasses up onto her nose and walked to the projector, turning it on. She pulled down the screen and turned off the lights before placing a picture onto the machine for the class to see.

"My project is entitled 'Faces'," she said, the first image of a man wearing a worn ski hat, with scruffy face, and smiling. He had no teeth. "I've been taking them since November," she continued, flicking to the second image of a plump, cheerful woman holding a bag of groceries. "I've gone as far as Kingsbridge. The intention is to display, nay, acknowledge, the same kinds of happiness that different people can share."

She went through several more photos (a sweating man holding a pitchfork, a young mother holding her baby) until coming to one of Sirius' mum getting her hair done at a beauty salon in Salcombe.

"My mum, Em?" He said tersely.

"She was happy then, Sirius, so I took a picture. It's about happiness," Emmeline said gently and moved on to the next one.

Two children grinning toothily and covered head to toe in mud were next, and following that was a shot, blurred by movement, of a pretty young woman dancing, hair wild and surrounded by people, though the focus was on her face. There was a baby mid-splash in a bath, the water droplets suspended in mid air, the child's smile bright. The next was a wedding photo, taken from behind the groom as the couple gazed into each other's eyes and he had her skirt hiked up to pull off her garter. A close up of an elderly woman's face, smiling and mapped with wrinkles while a young girl, not more than six or seven, kissed her cheek. She turned off the projector and turned to the class.

"That's all," Emmeline said quietly.

"That was beautiful Emmeline," Lily said with a smile. "You've certainly evicted happiness."

"I agree," Alice added, also smiling. "And they were beautifully taken."

"The dancing girl was p-pretty," Peter said.

"I think the old man without teeth was my favourite picture. He had so much character," Frank said.

"I think it was a shallow, unrealistic representation of life," Snape said bluntly.

"So are you," Sirius said. "It was great Em. Even if my mum was in it."

"That's very moving, Emmeline. It..." Professor Hagrid said and trailed off, waving his hand dramatically. "Next. Lily Evans? Your turn."

Lily stood, flattened her skirt, and pulled a large, plastic art divider from behind her chair. She popped up the projection screen and pulled two large pieces of paper from her folder, one at a time, taping them gingerly onto the chalkboard. They were charcoal sketches; one was a close up of Stubby Boardman (who they had met and heard play over Easter hols) singing into a microphone. The other was a profile of Remus who was chewing on his lip while writing.

Remus ducked his head and blushed, slouching a bit and apparently attempting to disappear. Lily had told him before hand that she had done a drawing of him, but he still felt shy.

James blinked blankly, staring at Lily's drawings. They were amazing. "They're really good," he said and then shook his head. "No. I mean, amazing. I mean, the shading... they look real. I mean, realistic."

"They really do. That one of Remus is. Well." Sirius blinked. "It looks like someone scanned a photo and photoshopped it."

"Very lovely," Emmeline said. "Breathtaking realism. You almost feel as though you know exactly what they're thinking."

"Very good, Lily. Very, very good," Hagrid said sincerely. "Go on, James. Your turn."

James got to his feet and carried his covered canvas to the front. It was quite big and he hesitated a moment before tugging the cover off. It was a paining of a lily--the flower, not the girl--and a pond. The flower was very bright and its surroundings were painted duller and in colours just off enough to make it surreal. A frog sat on the riverbank in the painting; it was facing the flower.

"A painting. Not with oils, just acrylic. And I stole a bit of Alice's sparkly makeup to put on the top edges of the petals," James said, shrugging and trying to seem casual with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He let his eyes flick over to Lily just once before looking away and at the rest of the class.

"That's very... well. Captivating, James," Lily said softly.

James smiled a little and bit his lip to hide his pleasure.

"Oh, how sweet," Snape leered.

"Very symbolic," Remus added.

Alice leaned forward and squinted. "So is Lily the lily then? And are you the frog?" she asked bluntly. James turned to stare at her, but said nothing.

Lily blushed. "Alice..." she said softly, and uncharacteristically. James Potter could be sweet. Sometimes.

"We should call you Frog instead of Prongs from now on then," Sirius said with a grin. "Or would you rather _Prince Charming_?"

"It's just a painting, mate," James said, his voice a little sharp.

"It looks a bit dreamlike because the colours are too blue or too green or too purple or just _too something_ , like they're vibrant at the same time as they're washed out. It's a neat effect," Emmeline said.

"Right. Charming. Pun unintended," Hagrid said. "Weird but impressive. Good work Potter. Longbottom? You're up."

Frank got to his feet and picked his project up off the table. He moved to the front of the room and carefully set it on the top of the projector before lifting off the scrap of material. It was a sculpture of a football player, his leg extended in a kick with the ball still on the tip of his foot. The body was leaning the opposite way as the leg and the ball so as to balance the little statue out so it could stand on one foot.

"His name is Jugador. That's Spanish for player," Frank said proudly. He knew he wasn't as artistic as some of the people in the class, but he was proud of how his project had turned out anyway.

"Not bad mate," Sirius said. "How'd you get the ball to stay up like that?"

"It's attached to his toe by a little metal rod I stuck most of the way through the ball and into his foot before I joined it just a bit at the toe," Frank answered.

"Oh, you should've seen how hard he worked on getting the little guy to stay upright, Sirius," Alice said. James snickered a little and she blushed, apparently realizing the lewd double entendre. "It's great, Frank. I really like it," she finished, still pink.

"I like that he doesn't have any distinctive facial features. He's blank, he could be anyone," Emmeline commented.

"Becks, even," Lily said. David Beckham was the only football played she knew of.

Severus scoffed. "Football is a waste of time and energy."

"Now, now, Sev," Sirius said. "The pot's calling the kettle black now."

Hagrid cleared his throat. "Now, now is right, both of you. This is an artistically open environment, let's keep it that way. Good proportions on the sculpture, Frank. Remus and Sirius, you're the only two left. Why don't you go first, Mister Lupin?"

Remus got out of his chair and crouched down to lift a large box from under the table. He carried it to the front and set it on the table, pulling the sheet gently off of his project. It was a diorama. "I was at a total loss until a month or two ago. I hadn't the faintest clue what to do. Then we read The Telltale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe in English, so I decided to make this," Remus said and reached back to turn on the battery. The floorboard in the bedroom began to pulse between two tiny policemen figurines and one old man. "If you look very closely, you can see the tiny little body parts."

"Wow, great detail Remus," Lily observed.

"I didn't like that story-poem, thing. And that beating is creeping me out," Alice said.

"It's supposed to. It's his guilt," Emmeline countered.

"The house looks wicked, Remus. That must've taken you _ages_ ," Frank muttered, leaning forward to get a better look.

"Boffin. Good art, though," James teased.

"Very creative Mr. Lupin. Different. Good," Hagrid said. "All right Black, you're up."

Sirius grinned widely and stood, pulling a large covered canvas from behind his chair. He walked to the front of the room and placed the canvas on the chalkboard ledge, then cleared his throat. "May I present," he said grandly, tugging at the cover, "Miss January 2000."

The painting was straight out of a nudie magazine. Only on a canvas. And done with oil paints. It made great show of her breasts mostly, but other areas were _certainly_ not ignored.

Remus' eyes widened and he stared at Sirius in amazement. He wasn't serious?

James exploded into laughter. "Never thought I'd say this in art class, but you did a great job on her nipples, mate!"

Alice squeaked and turned quite red, turning her face away and to face Frank. Frank, however, was staring with shock at Sirius' painting.

"That isn't art, that's porn. There is a difference," Severus sneered.

"Who says it isn't art?" Sirius replied indignantly. "I happen to appreciate the human body as a work of art. Because it is one."

Lily was staring at the painting in amazement. "It's. Well. It's certainly a pin-up, but it's beautifully done."

"I agree," said Emmeline. "It's very well done."

"You're all blind. It's nothing but porn he copied from a dirty magazine," Severus muttered.

"No. It's... aesthetically beautiful," Remus said slowly, tilting his head and assessing the painting further. "Look at her face if that's all you can appreciate, Severus. It's a _very_ good painting."

Sirius was very proud of himself. Sure it was just porn. It didn't mean he couldn't paint or anything.

Hagrid was at a complete loss. "Black, that's. Well. It's very well done but. She's nude."

"So?" Sirius questioned. "You didn't say I couldn't paint a naked woman."

"He's right," James seconded. "You didn't. Top marks, Pads!"

Remus rolled his eyes and shared an amused smile with Lily.

Hagrid blinked furiously and tugged at a paintbrush that was sitting in his beard. "I guess I didn't."

Then, right on cue, the bell rang through the room signalling the end of the day.

"Thank goodness," Alice whispered to Frank, glancing at Sirius' painting over her shoulder.

"Right. Good presentations. Marks back next class, now get lost."

As the students gathered up their projects and headed out of the class, there was much chatter. A lot of it was regarding Sirius' shocking piece of artwork, but many of the other presentations had been memorable as well.

Hagrid, meanwhile, was thankful the regional art exhibit had been cancelled. He didn't think the judges would've reacted well to the breasts on East Portlemouth Prep's best piece of art.


	10. Normal Like a Poofter (June 24, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where James puts his foot in his mouth, and Sirius likes somebody special.

James entered his room, tossing his book bag onto his bed and then collapsing next to it. It had been a rather tiring day, History with Professor Malfoy had been a drag and James had nearly lost his patience and decked the man. Or perhaps walked out of class. Only the fact that had Lily heard, she would have clucked her tongue at him and put on her disapproving face helped him squelch both urges. And anyway, his annoyance wasn't just at Professor Malfoy. James was irritable lately because Sirius wasn't being, well, Sirius. He'd been acting odd and shying away from conversation and veering dangerously close into Wet Blanket territory. Something was obviously on his brain, but he wouldn't talk to any of them, James or Remus or Peter.

It took him a couple moments before he realized Sirius wasn't in the room. On a whim, James pushed himself into a standing position and ambled over to the window. Sure enough, Sirius was sitting out on the roof, staring off into space. James opened the top drawer of his wardrobe and pulled a baggie holding a couple joints and a lighter out of a pair of socks. He moved back to the window, this time climbing out and settling next to his friend.

"You know, what you're doing is quite nearly brooding. You know what I say about brooding. Get high and fuck it, mate," he said, holding one of the joints out to his friend.

Sirius had skived off his afternoon classes faking a headache to come up to the roof and just think to himself. His mind had indeed been elsewhere lately, because sometimes profound realizations took a while to get used to.

And happened in weird ways as well.

The last bird he had been with, the one in Salcombe before he had pierced his nipple, had given him something rather unpleasant in the groin area. Thankfully it was nothing long-lasting, but it was this realization that had led him to the next.

A trip to the walk-in clinic, that is, and a rather, _rather_ intense examination by a male doctor. A young male doctor. A young, gay, male doctor.

It burnt a little afterward, but several wanks finally got the bloke out of his head.

Sirius was still pondering this when James arrived, startled by his sudden appearance. "I'm not brooding," he replied with irritation and took the joint, waiting patiently for the lighter.

James held up the lighter in front of Sirius' mouth, flicking the flame on. He was glad there wasn't much wind today; he didn't have the energy to do all the shifting necessary to light the joint.

He cast a disbelieving look at his mate. "Okay, okay. Don't get your knickers in a twist. So you aren't brooding. What's going on then? You've been off for ages."

Sirius inhaled the joint deeply, shrugging his shoulders as he slowly released the smoke from his mouth. "Nothing. Not really. I don't know." He said lamely.

James was quiet for a while, lighting his own joint and smoking in silence with Sirius. They'd been friends since they were in nappies and James, though he certainly wasn't the epitome of tact, knew a bit about dealing with Sirius and his moods by now. After the weed had had a few moments to make life go pleasantly soft around the edges, James took another swing.

"Spit it out, Sirius. Come on."

Sirius sighed. It wasn't as though he didn't want to tell James what was running through his mind; he was, despite his understanding of pretty much everything that concerned his mate, unsure of how he would react to this sort of information. A few minutes went by, in which they smoked in silence, James' persistent glare burning through the side of Sirius' head.

"I'm not sure you want to know," he said finally.

"Don't make me list off the thousands of things you've ever told me that I didn't want to know. This is something that's been bothering you for a while, mate. That makes it completely different. That makes it a Matter of Much Importance. Just tell me."

"All right," Sirius said, not having enough stamina to fight James off any longer. "But you're not going to like it."

Sirius sat up a little more, and took another draw from his joint before turning to James, and studying his quizzical expression. James asked for things like these. "I think I'm gay," he blurted.

James blinked at his friend and then snorted with impatience. "Come on mate. Don't fuck around. What's been going on?"

Sirius sighed with exasperation. "I'm not kidding mate," he said.

Pause. Stare. Blink again. And again. Muss hair. Look away. Look back. Stare. Blink twice more.

"Sure you are," James said, his voice almost encouraging.

"Don't be a prat," Sirius replied.

"I'm not being a prat," James protested, trying very hard to organize his thoughts. "Look, are you really being serious? You honestly think you're gay? I mean, you're nearly sixteen and you've shagged quite a few birds already. I can't see how you think you'd be _gay_..."

"It's kind of hard to explain," Sirius replied, his voice strained. "I mean, it doesn't make sense to me either, why do you think I've been going around with my head in the clouds?"

"To be honest, I rather thought it'd have something to do with _girls_ ," James said bluntly.

He was shocked, to tell the truth. He wouldn't say he knew everything about Sirius (Sirius was a complicated guy, after all), but he thought he knew quite a bloody lot. This, however, had come out of left field for him. He'd never thought Sirius could like blokes. In fact, if someone had ever suggested it, James would've laughed long and hard and loud. _Sirius_ , he'd have said, _is about as straight as you can get. And he gets more action then you on top of it_. Then James had a startling thought.

"You weren't off with boys when you said you were with girls, were you?" he asked quickly.

Sirius laughed oddly. "No," he said slowly. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"Not really," James said, shrugging. "Look, it's just that in general, this doesn't make sense. What you're saying. I mean, not that it..." He paused and took a deep drag off of his joint, attempting to blow out smoke rings and only half succeeding. "Are you sure you are? I mean, you said you think. You're not sure then?"

"I don't know. There's something there or I wouldn't be fucking thinking about it at all." Sirius was getting frustrated now, and he knew it was going to happen. It was the reason he didn't want to tell James in the first place.

James, while certainly not exactly thoughtless or clueless, could be a bit dense. "But you still like girls, don't you? I mean, you could still get married and stuff and have kids like normal then," he said rather neutrally.

"James, shut the hell up," Sirius replied, irritated, taking the last draw of his joint. The boy was tactless, as Sirius had actually winced when James had said 'normal'. Implicating that he, Sirius, his _best fucking mate_ was not normal at all.

James looked over at Sirius, shocked at his friend's tone. "Oh, hey. That's not what I meant. Either way it's okay. I just meant that you still _could_ if you wanted or that you could shack up with a bloke if you wanted. And if you are gay, actually gay, then you'll shack up with a bloke and that's that. I didn't mean it like that. I'm okay with it. It's not a big deal, all right?"

James knew that who Sirius'd done what with before hadn't been any of James' business, save for the normal sort of bedroom bragging that all blokes took part in. This wasn't his business either. Sirius was still James' best mate, whether or not he wanted to shag other blokes. He was shocked Sirius would think he'd disapprove. James had almost never disapproved of anything Sirius had ever done. All through their childhoods he'd admired him, this was just one more thing to appreciate. James didn't know how he'd react to figuring out he liked blokes, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be a week of thought. James appreciated easy. Not that he couldn't work hard, but he appreciated having an easy life. Good parents, smart, lots of opportunities to do what he pleased. Sirius had to work for everything, and this was just one more thing.

Sirius sighed again. "Well," he started, going for open honesty; "I suppose I still like birds. I mean, shagging is still great and what have you. But blokes... well, they do it for me too, I guess. Does that mean I'm half a poofter?"

James let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I reckon it does." After a moment, James grinned widely and jeered, elbowing Sirius in the side, "So. I suppose you fancy me then, don't you? I mean, I am amazing and quite sexy on top. Can't be helped, really. I understand."

Sirius grinned, "No, mate, can't say that I want to jump _your_ bones. Nothing there to jump."

"Hey!" James protested, punching Sirius' shoulder good-naturedly. "There is _plenty_ there to jump. Honestly, though. Who've you got your eye on?"

Sirius hesitated. This one would be harder to admit than the actual liking blokes part. "Er, well..."

"There is someone then? Who? Are they gay too? Out with it," James insisted. It was just his natural nosiness, mostly, but on another level, this was a way James could show Sirius that he really was okay with it.

"I don't know if he's gay or not, though I suspect he might be," Sirius replied thoughtfully. "And if I tell you, you absolutely **CAN'T** say a word to him. Swear it?"

"Do I know him then? Oh this _is_ juicy. Come on, I won't say a word to him. I swear," James said, tracing a cross over his heart. "Who?"

Sirius paused, willing himself to say it out loud. He hadn't yet. "Remus," he said quietly.

James whipped his head around so suddenly to look at his friend; he nearly threw his balance off and ended up a splat on the ground a couple stories down.

"No way," James breathed, his mind whirring away.

Sirius, for the first time in a long time, felt his face go red. "Yes," he muttered.

James took a moment to consider this and then abruptly said, "Bit bookish, but with hidden depths. I suppose he'd suit you. So when are you going to tell him?"

"Never," Sirius answered casually.

James frowned. "Well you know, it'll be really hard to convince him to touch your bits if you don't at least let him know how you feel," he said practically.

"Yes, well, how do recommend I go about telling him that exactly? 'Hullo Remus, just stopping by to let you know I've got a big gay crush on you.'" Sirius rolled his eyes.

James laughed. "Well, why not? I mean, it's Remus. He takes pretty much everything in stride."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm just not going to do it. I'll find someone else. I guess."

"Er, why? I mean, what's the harm?"

"He probably won't believe me. Or won't, you know, swing that way. Or if he does he might say no."

"So you're afraid. I get it," James said. Suddenly deciding that, all things considered, now was probably not the best time to push this, he changed the subject. "Look. It doesn't matter. It's your choice. He's your friend, and you want him. It does make it hard. Literally and figuratively. Ha. So, want to go, I don't know, kick around the football for a while? Get your mind off?"

"Yea sure," Sirius shrugged. In his mind he was certainly convinced that Remus would never want to go with him. Likely not into Sirius, or more likely not into blokes at all. "Let's go then," he added, climbed back into their room through the window.

James shook his head. Despite his admitted admiration for the way Sirius deals with all the shit he must deal with, sometimes he put far too much effort into avoidance. He followed Sirius inside, calling, "Give me your roach, I'll save it for later."

Sirius handed it to James and grabbed the football out of the closet, moving toward the door. Heading toward the stairwell with James behind him, Sirius seriously hoped that they wouldn't run into Remus.

That was just one awkward silence he wouldn't be able to explain.


	11. Moving On to Blokes (June 26th, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lily has the munchies, a pregnancy is revealed, and Remus sort of falls out of the closet.

Remus exhaled a great puff of smoke, watching it curl in the wind and then disappear into the great, blue sky stretching out forever above them, so brilliant it almost hurt his eyes. He passed the joint over to his friend, turning his head only enough to make sure he was holding his hand in her line of vision. Remus couldn't help but notice how much redder her hair looked when it was splayed out all over the vibrantly green grass, but he had to tilt his head oddly to see it so instead he turned his face back up to the sun, closing his eyes, relaxed and content.

"Have you got any plans for the summer, Lily?" Remus asked, not bothering to open his eyes and look at her as he spoke. They were good enough friends now that he sometimes let his manners slip around her. She didn't seem to mind when he did, anyway.

Bringing the joint gently to her lips, Lily took a deep inhalation, allowing the smoke to sit in her mouth serenely before releasing it. After a moment, blinking into the sun, she took several small puffs, then handed it back to Remus. "No," she said indifferently, moving a hand over her eyes. "Bugger around, likely. Boring, I'll bet. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm staying with James in Salcombe for a few days before heading home to Stoke Fleming," Remus replied before sucking in another lungful. "Sirius will be there too. And Peter might even visit, but who knows if he'll make it before I leave for home," he added, speaking slowly so the smoke didn't escape too quickly. Taking another quick toke he handed the roach back to Lily, smiling widely and saying, "Finish it, if you'd like. I think I've had quite enough."

"Sounds like a real party," Lily said, closing her eyes and attempting to get the most out of what was left. Burning her fingers slightly, she squealed, dropping the little remaining bit onto the grass. "I will never manage to do that without burning myself," she added irritably, putting her right pointer and thumb in her mouth, sucking them soothingly.

"Sorry," Remus said remorsefully. He'd never burnt himself, but he hadn't done it often because usually Sirius and James had so much weed around, they just put it out early and saved it to re-roll later, when there was enough to make another full joint. "Are you all right?"

"It's not your fault I can't finish a roach properly, Remus," Lily replied, removing her fingers from her mouth and closing her eyes again. The sun was warm and comforting on her face, and, despite the stinging in her fingers, Lily felt as though she might like to just lie there for the rest of the afternoon.

"How'd you find the maths exam?"

"Oh, not difficult," Remus said, shrugging and feeling his arm brush against hers at the movement, grass tickling the underside. Laying about with a good friend at the far end of the sports field on a warm summer day was, Remus thought, probably one of the best ways to end off the semester. The calm, fuzzy feeling only made it all the better. "The chemistry one tripped me up a little, though. And I wrote nearly twice as much as was expected for the essay on the literature exam. Nearly didn't have time to proof read it. How about you?"

"You know I'm not quite as anal about it as you are," Lily said, then giggled. "But I mean," she started again, still laughing, "yes, chemistry was a bit tricky. Lit was good though, asked the right sort of questions, I thought."

Remus laughed along as well, knowing Lily meant no harm. "Yes, well. Literature questions usually are the right sort of questions, vague enough that they don't box you in, but specific enough that you can still work with them if you've only skimmed the readings," he teased, nudging her side gently with his knuckles.

"You know me far too well, Remus Lupin," Lily said, smiling. She turned on her side to look at him, arching an eyebrow. "Know what I've always wondered?"

"Why Rose threw the necklace in the ocean in the end?" Remus asked laughingly, after turning his face towards her, bringing a hand up to rub at his ear as the grass brushed against it.

"She was finally letting go, fool," Lily scolded. "We've had this conversation before. But no. Why haven't you ever dated anyone here, Remus?"

Remus' laughter faltered at Lily's question, but the surprise faded and he smiled, lying quickly, "Oh, well. I'm very focussed on school, you know. And my friends, especially Sirius, James, Peter, and you. I don't really have time, I guess. How come you haven't ever said yes to James?"

"Crappy answer," Lily said decidedly. "And you're doing that thing where you change the subject to make it look as though you've nothing else to say. I claim bollocks!"

"No it isn't," Remus replied. "I'm just, it's not for any reason, really. It just isn't something that's, well. Really important to me, I guess. But come on. You can't complain about my answer when you didn't answer at all. James is perfectly nice, you know. Why do you dislike him so much?"

"Who says I dislike him?" Lily asked.

"You've turned him down for a date at least a dozen times already. You can't like him, else you'd have said yes," Remus said practically.

"Perhaps I just don't like him in the 'let's snog' sort of way, hm?" Lily countered. "James is quite alright, I suppose. For a stalker."

Remus burst out laughing at that and it was a moment before he calmed enough to speak. "Well, I think you should give him a chance, Lily. A good stalker might make an all right boyfriend, after all," he suggested, still chuckling.

"What else has he told you to say?" Lily asked, smiling wryly.

"Lily! He doesn't tell me to... okay. Well. He does," Remus admitted ruefully. "But I'd never lie about him to you. He really is a good sort, you know. And he means well, if he's perhaps a bit daft about it."

"Daft is an understatement, really," Lily said, still smiling. "He's a bit over the top you know. Serenading, and love letters... I'm sure there's a book of pictures of me in towels somewhere as well."

Remus coughed uncomfortably and said, "Well. Not towels, Lily. But I mean, you and Hestia couldn't have expected to sunbathe in your bathing suits without getting a little attention from a great deal of the male population of East Portlemouth."

"Remus! He _didn't_!" Lily exclaimed. She'd just been kidding.

"Oh no. Don't tell him I told you?" Remus asked, wincing a little at the thought. "It's not so bad. He was bouncing with excitement and all the photos turned out blurry anyway. And he only got a few before Sirius found him and stole his camera to hit him over the head with it. Honest."

"I'm surprised Sirius wasn't helping, rather than hitting," Lily scoffed. "Though after his little fling with Hestia in the fall, I suppose he's seen quite enough of her naked, or almost so."

Remus raised his eyebrows and, before he could stop himself, asked, "What fling?"

"Remus. You didn't _know_? How could you not?" Lily asked incredulously. "They were shagging from September until Christmas, for goodness sake."

"Oh, well. I didn't know, no. I suppose he didn't want to tell me. He probably thought I'd disapprove," Remus said, keeping his voice carefully even and closing his eyes again so he wouldn't have to look at Lily. "I don't, though. Good for him. Hestia is very... pretty."

Lily laughed. "Looks as though it physically hurt you to say that," she commented. "It didn't end well. I suppose Sirius was under the impression that they were just fuck buddies, rather than a couple... Hestia obviously thought otherwise and was shocked, to say the least, to catch him shagging Elladora Guffy." Lily blinked for a moment. "Do you live under a rock? This was _quite_ the scandal. How did you _not_ know about it?"

"It didn't. She is pretty," Remus said, flushing a little and raising a hand to tuck his hair behind his ears. "No, I don't live under a rock. I thought something was going on, but he didn't tell me about it and I'm not much for gossip, so this is the first I've heard about it. Whom he shags is his business, after all, and not at all mine," he replied, trying not to sound hurt. Surely Sirius had had his reasons for keeping it to himself. Or even if he didn't, he was entitled to his privacy.

Lily shook her head. "That's ever so strange, really. I'd assumed that he'd told you, or I would have told you myself." She wrinkled up her nose. "Oh! Despite your sincere lack of interest in gossip, might I tantalize you with a bit that Sirius doesn't know about, hm?"

"Well, if you _must_ ," Remus said, smiling again.

"Well. I suppose, in retrospect it's certainly not something to make light of... Hes had quite a hard time with it in January... and you must promise _not_ to tell Sirius... I really shouldn't be telling you, but I know I can trust you. I can, can't I?" Lily chewed her lip nervously, as though on the edge of revealing the meaning of life.

"Of course you can trust me, you know that. However, if it's really something that important, perhaps it's better if you don't tell me. I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," Remus said, concerned.

"No, well." Lily paused, debating whether or not to tell Remus what exactly had happened to Hestia. She hadn't made Lily promise not to tell anyone, except Sirius, of course. Sighing, feeling guilty, she blurted out, "She was pregnant."

"Oh. Oh my gosh," Remus said flatly. He sucked in a breath and looked up at Lily, a pained expression on his face. "Was?"

Lily nodded. "She was a state, obviously. Emmeline found her, crying in the bathroom, and brought her back to their room. We tried to talk to her, and she had decided... well. She planned to keep it. But. You remember when she broke her leg?"

"Of course. Kingsley nearly had a heart attack. Even once the cast was off, he didn't want to let her play with them anymore," Remus said, smiling a little at the memory. Kingsley had been so worried about her. The smile dropped off immediately as the impact of Lily's words hit him. He sat up, shaking his head and looking down at her worriedly. "Oh, you don't mean she had a miscarriage because of the fall?"

"I'm afraid so," Lily replied. "She had been going to find Sirius, to tell him, and... well." She sighed. "That's that."

"That's terrible," Remus said softly. "That must have been so hard for her."

"We encouraged her to tell Sirius what had happened. He deserves to know, I think. But it's her choice, and she thinks he's better off not knowing," Lily said.

Remus agreed with Lily, but he knew that it was Hestia's decision. Maybe she'd tell him one day. Remus squelched the little voice in the back of his mind that was glad Hestia hadn't had the baby. Sirius, for all his flaws, likely would have done the Right Thing in the end, and, well. And then he'd likely have been too busy for his friends. For Remus.

Clearing his throat, Remus said, "Well, she's all right now though?"

"So far as I know. She doesn't really talk about it. Everyone knows that Kingsley is trying to woo her, but I think she's a little wary," Lily said, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Settling back down on his side next to Lily, Remus absently began pulling the grass up as he asked softly, "Why do you suppose Sirius does that? Sleeps with so many girls, I mean. He's so young to be taking risks like that, and if Hestia _had_ , well. I just don't get it."

"He's almost 17, Remus. That's not that young," Lily corrected. "And I don't know why he does it. Perhaps he's searching for a sort of satisfaction he just can't find."

"He's an idiot sometimes," Remus said, not unkindly, though not quite intentionally either. "Oh, I just mean. If he hasn't found it that way, I don't think doing the same thing over and over is going to make it appear. He should look somewhere else."

Lily snorted. "Perhaps he should give up on girls entirely and move on to blokes," she said.

Raising his eyebrows, Remus answered hurriedly, "That's not what I meant."

"Joking, Rem, calm down, love," Lily replied, raising her own eyebrows.

"Oh, yes. I just, I didn't mean it like that is all," Remus muttered. Flushing again and wishing they had another joint, even if only to occupy himself because the last one had not worn off yet, Remus pulled up another chunk of grass. He took a deep breath and tried to affect a casual tone. "Why do you suppose we never worked out as a couple? Issues regarding James excluded."

Lily blinked, surprised. "Us? I. Well. It seemed we hadn't a 'spark', so to speak. Why?"

Remus knew she was bright enough to figure it out on her own, and he wished she would because he really didn't want to try and put into words what he'd only just begun realizing himself. "Just... wondering what you thought," he answered and chanced a look up at her. "Why do you suppose there was no spark?"

Lily agape mouth twisted into a smile as realization began to dawn on her. She hadn't really considered it before; she'd assumed things were merely platonic because of a lack of mutual attraction. "Remus... are you?"

Forcing a smile, Remus said, "I cried in Titanic, Lily. Or what's more telling, I've seen it more than once and cried _every time_. I suppose I should've figured it out sooner."

Lily hit him upside the head. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"Hey!" Remus laughed and ducked away from her arm, grinning a wide, relieved grin. "I've only just put the pieces together myself! No need to get abusive."

"Remus, I have a strong urge to tell you that you're my gay best friend," Lily said awkwardly. "And this explains... Hestia called you a poof the night of our date. Said you weren't interested in my arse."

Remus furrowed his eyebrows, a bit confused. "She knew before I did then. And," Remus said, smile returning, "you can be my best girl then. Though I haven't told the others, so if we say that in public, James will be just dreadful about it."

"All the more reason to say it in public then," Lily teased.

"I figured you'd say that," Remus said, chuckling a little. He was glad he'd told her. It felt good that someone knew.

Pulling herself into a sitting position, Lily looked back at the school with distaste. "I suppose we ought to head back. Dinner soon, and I've got the munchies."

"I certainly agree with you on the munchies front," Remus said, and wished he could eat junk food. He got to his feet and held a hand out to help her.

Grabbing his hand and climbing to her feet, Lily flattened out her skirt. They began walking back toward the school, and after a moment, Lily asked, "are you going to tell the boys?"

"No, I don't think so," he replied carefully. "I mean, I won't lie about it, but I don't expect I'll have to. I don't see any reason for it to come up."

"You expect to be friends with these boys for the rest of your life, and can't see a reason for it to come up?" Lily looped her arms with Remus', shaking her head. "Silly Remus. Of _course_ it will come up."

"Well, not for a while, anyway. Until I can't put off having a personal life any longer," Remus answered with a wry smile, squeezing her arm for a moment. Sobering, he said softly, "Thank you, Lily. For, well. You know."

"Don't worry about it," Lily said. "I'm sure you'd be as understanding if I suddenly admitted to being a lesbian."

Remus couldn't help but laugh. "You know, I think that's about the only thing that might deter James. Then again, maybe it wouldn't."

"Well, he has plenty of blurry photos of me to wank off to, so that just might keep him," Lily said, grinning mischievously.


	12. Sisters, Sisters (August 15th, 2004)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bellatrix shows a human side, Narcissa gets what she wants, as usual, and our lives are made of more than what they seem.

Narcissa firmly believed there was a proper outfit for every occasion. She'd shopped long and hard to find her outfit for today, and though it had taken weeks of searching--which was certainly _not_ procrastinating, because ladies who were as sure of themselves as Narcissa was did not procrastinate--she thought she'd finally found the perfect one. She was wearing a cream skirt, cut like a pencil skirt but just a bit shorter. There was a matching cream blazer, and a baby blue silk blouse. She looked very grown up, she thought, and her shoes and purse matched too. She wore a pearl necklace and pinned her hair up with one elegant clasp. She was clean and put-together and calm.

Oh yes, clothes were important, and this was the perfect outfit for confronting the illegitimate child from an affair of her father's. Especially when that illegitimate half-sibling was the second in command for the biggest up and coming fashion designer in the country, and Narcissa wanted to be a model.

There'd been no answer when she'd rung up, so she'd seated herself primly on one of two chairs in the hallway to wait.

She wondered if Bellatrix Lestrange had any idea what was about to hit her.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, and sharp, pointed heels hit the tile floor. Bellatrix Lestrange donned the most up-to-date and expensive pair of sunglasses that Vol de Mort offered. Her hair was pulled into a tight, elegant black knot at the base of her neck, and he wore a grey pinstriped business suit with a coral blouse, ironed crisply to perfection (as though anything else was acceptable when you represented Tommy!).

She walked past the blonde girl without even looking at her.

Recognizing her straight away, Narcissa got up and followed her, pulling out a photo of her father. She'd come prepared.

"Bellatrix," Narcissa called before the other woman had a chance to go into her apartment.

Bellatrix stopped, but didn't turn around. "I don't believe I know you," she said curtly.

"Well, you ought to," Narcissa said, smiling slightly and fingering the corner of the photo in her hand. Oh, what drama! "We are sisters, after all."

Bellatrix turned on her heel and glanced backward at Narcissa, her sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. " _Excuse_ me?"

Silently, Narcissa handed over the photo. She only waited a beat before saying, "That's my father. Yours too, incidentally. Cygnus Black. My name is Narcissa."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed as she inspected the photo. "How do I know you're not completely full of it, _Narcissa_?" she asked, removing her sunglasses. "You could've gotten this anywhere."

"Indeed I could have. At the very least, do you admit that man, Cygnus Black, is your father?" Narcissa asked, not yet bothering to reach for her identification just yet.

"I don't have to admit anything to you, brat," Bellatrix answered, dropping the picture on the floor.

Narcissa produced both a piece of photo ID and her birth certificate from her purse, holding it out to Bellatrix. "See for yourself. And I'll thank you not to throw my property around."

Surprised at how prepared the girl was, Bellatrix took the documents and studied them. They looked real enough. "I suppose next you'll be showing me a photo of yourself on Daddy's knee them, hmm?"

"Not quite," Narcissa said, and however much she had prepared, she hadn't thought to bring a photo of her and her father. Nonetheless, she did have a tiny little family portrait in the gold locket around her neck. She opened the tiny thing and angled it towards Bellatrix. "Does that suffice? Are you going to invite me in now?"

Bellatrix didn't move. "What are you expecting from me, exactly? Slumber parties and advice about shagging? I'm physically incapable of braiding hair."

"What do you take me for?" Narcissa sneered. "I'm a Black, not a Potter. I don't require your friendship. Or, for that matter, want it. You're the by-product of an affair that greatly upset my mother when she found out. I simply think we might be able to mutually benefit each other, and I refuse to discuss it in a _hallway_."

Bellatrix quirked an eyebrow and felt the corners of her mouth twitch. The girl had spunk. "Well enough," she said simply, and turned to the door to unlock it. "Come in, sit down, and don't touch anything. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you," Narcissa replied as she breezed into the flat. It was nice, as expected. Fashionable. Minimal. Expensive.

Bellatrix set the kettle on the stove and grabbed tea cups. A woman of wealth, as she was, it didn't stop her from making her own tea. "So, what is it you want then? You can't be more than 16, can you?"

"Nearly seventeen," Narcissa said, still looking around the apartment. "And I want to be a model. I want it rather more, I expect, than you want your father to continue to believe he's _your_ father."

Narcissa had never pulled her punches, and she didn't see the point of dancing around the topic. She'd already said she wasn't there to make friends, and she wasn't. She was on a mission. And not looking at Bellatrix as she spoke was _not_ out of fear of all the things she'd heard, of how terrible Bellatrix could be when angry.

Bellatrix pursed her lips as she joined Narcissa, handing her a cup of tea.

"You're quite a little bitch then, aren't you?" she said, bluntly.

"Perhaps," Narcissa said agreeably as she took the cup of tea, smiling up at Bellatrix. Her sister. Well, half-sister. "And also quite determined. I know I'm pretty enough to be a model, you see. But I'm terribly impatient, and getting into the industry just takes _so_ long. Vol de Mort Fashions is the most controversial designer there is. If I could do a few shoots, maybe a runway show or two, I would be set. So. Can you get me in, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix couldn't help it. She smirked. "Let me make sure I've got this right then," she said. "You want me to put my foot in the door for you, so you don't go off blathering secrets you heard your mummy and daddy talking about regarding from what set of bollocks I was sired?"

"Actually, the maid informed me. I don't deign to eavesdropping," Narcissa said, waving her hand dismissively and pausing to take a sip of her tea. "Anyway, I did a little research, and it'd be easy enough to prove. My father is sentimental about family, and he's put a hidden clause for you in his will. And I've looked into _your_ family, too, and your father doesn't have a clue, does he? Poor daddy dearest."

Here was where Narcissa was making a little leap. Her whole proposition rode on Bellatrix being close with her parents, and Narcissa had no idea whether she was or not. Well, it would work as well if Bellatrix wanted to protect her own reputation, but it wasn't as though many outside of the fashion industry thought much of her at all, so Cissa couldn't see how it would make a difference _there_.

Bellatrix licked her lips and then took a thoughtful sip of her tea. "In his will, hmm?" she questioned quietly, surprised. No, Daddy didn't know. Not Mum's husband, Daddy, that was. But Mum had told her when she was quite young, before Daddy had gone blind after that ridiculous accident, and he had no idea that Bellatrix looked nothing like him (she'd resembled her mother when she was small) but had instead grown into the spitting image of her biological father. She loved Daddy. She couldn't bring herself to tell him something like that, not when he still called her Princess and baked her cinnamon buns.

She sighed. "Fine, fine," she said.

"Fantastic. I suppose I ought to wait until after graduation, of course. My parents would be devastated if I didn't graduate with decent grades," Narcissa said happily. It had been a lot easier than she'd thought it would be, even if Narcissa _was_ an expert at using her connections to her greatest advantage.

"Yes, well. Well enough then. I'll give you my card," Bellatrix replied, reaching into her blazer pocket and handing a business card to Narcissa. "Call me periodically to _remind_ me of your existence. We'll start you in the fall line following your graduation. You go to East Portlemouth, I suppose?"

Taking the card, Narcissa smiled. Bellatrix really did look exceptionally like their father, while Narcissa herself took after her mother--especially with the blonde hair--but she thought, if she looked closely, they had similar eyes. If Narcissa didn't resent Bellatrix so much for causing problems within Narcissa's otherwise perfect family, she thought she might like to get to know her sister.

Well, that didn't matter. Narcissa had gotten what she'd come for.

"Certainly. I'm a busy girl, though. Don't expect me to ring up and plan slumber parties or ask for advice about shagging," Narcissa said, a slight sneer to her voice as she threw Bellatrix's words back at her. "And of course I go to East Portlemouth. Blacks have gone there for generations. Where else would I go?"

" _Honestly_. Don't expect to get anywhere in fashion with a mouth like that," Bellatrix snapped.

"I can be ladylike. I just don't like you," Narcissa said primly, using Bellatrix's sharp tone as an excuse to call up all the anger she'd felt watching her parents at dinner and knowing her mother's eyes were red from tears. She'd decided then that it was all Bellatrix's fault, and at the very least, she was going to get something out of it.

Leaning forward, Narcissa set her tea down and added in as dangerous a voice as she could muster, "Now before I go, you need to know. Just because you're in my father's will does _not_ mean that he wants anything to do with you. If you come anywhere near my family, I won't hesitate to get in touch with your father. Understood?"

Bellatrix laughed. "I don't owe him anything. Why would I bother?"

"Well, don't ask _me_ ," Narcissa said in a drawl she'd probably picked up from Lucius. "I just thought it was only proper to give you fair warning. Is there anything else, or are we done here?"

Bellatrix waved her off. "Go on then. I can see that you despise me for existing, and I've got nothing else to say to you."

Narcissa was angry, perhaps, but she certainly didn't despise Bellatrix. She despised the effect finding out about Bellatrix had had on her mother, yes, but the woman herself was helping Narcissa get her career off the ground. How could she despise that? Not that anything would come from correcting Bellatrix. It didn't seem to affect her willingness to help Narcissa either way, and Cissa wondered if Bellatrix was really all that used to people hating her.

"It was a pleasure, Bellatrix. Thank you for the tea," Narcissa said blandly, coming out of her thoughts and getting to her feet. For a moment, her coolness cracked and she looked very much so the sixteen-year-old she was. "You really look a lot like him, you know. I... can see why he'd put you in his will. You _are_ family."

Bellatrix smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose so," she said quietly.

"Bye, Bellatrix," Narcissa said, before turning her back and heading for the door, with no intention of looking over her shoulder.

Narcissa couldn't help but wonder, though, if Bellatrix had known, why hadn't she ever contacted Narcissa? Narcissa had no way of knowing if the woman was in contact with her father at all, but it hadn't even been a month since Narcissa had found out, and she was here, meeting Bellatrix face-to-face. Why hadn't Bellatrix ever attempted to do the same?

"Bye-bye," Bellatrix said, and watched Narcissa leave, anything but indifferent. She knew all about Narcissa of course, thanks to Cygnus, and had known who the girl was the moment she'd laid eyes on her in the hallway. She'd just hoped that... well. That was it now. She couldn't tell Daddy about Cygnus, not a chance, no matter how much she wanted to keep her _sister_ away from what was going to happen. She'd be taking Narcissa down now on her own accord. No matter how much she loved Tommy, she still believed that only the willing should be a part of the Death Eaters.

There were a few years yet. Perhaps Narcissa would change her mind?

Bellatrix drained her teacup.

Likely not.


End file.
